Judging a book by its Cover
by McLance
Summary: Charlie is on to another adventure, bringing the Lancer family along with her.
1. Chapter 1

,"What's the temperature, do you suppose?" Charlie asked. leaning to her left, and peeking around so she could take

in Scott's face.

"I figure upwards of eighty-five," Scott said.

They were riding into town, Charlie behind Scott on his horse.

Scott, with the intention to accomplish a few errands, and Charlie, intent to keep him

company, and perhaps convince Scott to add some candy to the grocery order at the mercantile.

"I wish we could go swimming today," Charlie went on. "Do you think maybe we can?"

"We'll see."

"When we get back home, maybe?" she continued.

"I said that we'd see. Stop wheedling."

"Okay," Charlie said, relenting. She didn't want to make Scott cross, or he'd never agree to take her swimming. And, since

he, nor any of the other Lancers would allow her to go alone to the swimming hole, she needed for him to not be vexed with

her. And he didn't like wheedling. So, she wouldn't.

Once, in town, there was a steady stream of people, up and down the sidewalks, and crossing the street.

"Why are there so many folks in town?" Charlie asked.

"I'd forgotten about it, but I think there's a horse auction being held today," Scott said.

Instantly, Charlie's interest was peaked. "With lots of horses for sale?"

"Probably quite a few."

"Are you going to go?" Charlie asked.

"I doubt it. I'm not in the market for a new horse."

When Scott stopped in front of the post office, he held out an arm to Charlie, and lowered her to the ground. He dismounted, and tied

the bridle to the hitching post.

They went into the post office, where Scott gathered the mail. Back out on the street, Scott tucked the few

letters into his saddle bags.

They crossed the street, to the Mercantile, and Scott picked up the dress material, packaged by Mrs. Lucas, that

Teresa had ordered the week before. While he talked with a few of the other men in the store, Charlie wandered about

for a few minutes, and then went to stand beside Scott, listening.

The topics were the dry weather, the intense need for rain, and the horse auction to be held later that day.

The horses were being brought in from all over, Charlie heard, and she thought it sounded really exciting.

As Scott gathered up Teresa's package, and prepared to leave, he caught Charlie eyeing the candy jars.

"You can have a piece or two of hard candy," he told her. "Which ones do you want?"

"Could we get a sack of gumdrops?" Charlie asked.

Scott looked down into her face. "An entire sack?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"For Murdoch," Charlie said.

"Murdoch, huh?" Scott asked, looking amused.

"Murdoch loves gum drops."

"I did not know that," Scott said, smiling at her.

"He does," Charlie said.

"Well, then, by all means, let's get Murdoch a sack of gum drops."

When the gum drops had been bagged up, they walked up to the bank, where Scott did some banking business. Charlie wasn't

certain just what it was, but it seemed to take forever.

Once outside again, Scott said, "I thought we'd walk down to the school."

Immediately, Charlie looked bemused. "Why?"

"I thought you might like to meet the teacher. School will be starting before you know it."

"What if she's not there?" Charlie asked.

"She usually is, this time of the summer. Getting things prepared for the first day."

"I guess," Charlie said, hesitantly.

As they walked the short distance to the gray school building, Charlie spoke up. "I was wondering something."

"What were you wondering?"

"If I could do my school at home."

When Scott looked down at her, Charlie added hastily, "For a little while, I mean."

Scott shook his head, looking forward again. "I don't think so, Charlie."

"Well, but, you're good at mathematics, and Murdoch can help me with geography and history-"

"You need to attend school in a regular classroom, with a teacher, and other kids," Scott said.

Charlie could tell from the tone of his voice that this was a subject he would not be likely to budge from.

She sighed heavily.

"You'll feel differently once you begin, and meet more of the other kids around here," Scott encouraged.

Charlie didn't think so, but she kept that to herself.

At the school yard, there was a buggy and horse hitched to a post. Scott led the way up the front stairs, and

thru the door, held open with a block to let the air inside.

A woman was busily sweeping, and there was a round of dust filling the air.

"Good morning," she said, pausing, and smiling at them.

"Good morning, Susan. How are you?" Scott asked, walking on towards her.

They exchanged a few moments of talk, and then Scott reached back, and gave Charlie a slight pull.

"Miss Axton, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is Miss Susan Axton, the teacher here," he said, by way of introduction.

"Hello, Charlie!" the young woman said, shaking Charlie's hand.

"Hello," Charlie replied.

"I've been hearing of you. It's so nice to finally meet you."

Charlie nodded, feeling shy.

"I've certainly gotten the dust stirred up, haven't I?" the young woman said with a laugh.

After that, for the next few minutes, the young teacher drew Charlie into conversation and when they were once

again walking down the front steps, Scott asked, "What do you think? Do you like her?"

Charlie thought that it would be nearly impossible for someone to not take a liking to the friendly woman.

"Yes. I liked her," she said.

"She's a good teacher. At least from everything that I've heard from others around town."

Scott's name was called, and they both looked in the direction it came from.

Val walked up, his grin including them both.

"Scott," he said, in greeting. "And how are you, Miss Charlie?"

"Fine," Charlie said, giving Val a dimpled smile.

While the two men talked, Charlie centered her interest on the horses that were filling the corrals across the street, at the livery,

and the makeshift pens in the adjoining fields. Horses of every size and color.

"Come on over to the office," Val was saying to Scott. "I'll show it to you."

Charlie realized she had no idea what they were talking about. She'd been so enthralled by the sheer number of horses.

"Alright," Scott was saying. "Come on, Charlie."

"Could I go and watch them get ready for the auction?" Charlie asked, looking up at Scott. "And look at all the horses?"

"I don't want you running all around. They're trying to get things set up."

"I won't run around, Scott. I promise. I'll just stand right there, by the gates," Charlie said earnestly. "Please?"

Scott eyed the hubbub across from them. "Alright. But, stay right there."

"I will!" Charlie assured him, and ran on across the street.

Charlie found herself a spot, and climbed up the rungs on the corral, so that she could rest her arms on the top. There was

so much happening, with men coming and going, and horses being led around, that Charlie didn't know anyone was nearby, until

she felt a poke to her side.

"Hi!" Lucy said cheerfully, climbing up beside Charlie.

"Hi."

"It's going to be a long auction," Lucy said. "Is that why you're in town today?"

"No. Scott forgot about it. He says he's not going," Charlie said.

"My papa says he's going," Lucy reported.

"I wish I could," Charlie said longingly.

Intent on the horses again, Charlie felt another poke from Lucy.

"See him?" the other girl asked.

"Who?"

"Him. That man, right there." Lucy gave a discreet point.

Charlie took in the older man that Lucy was gesturing to. He was dressed in raggedy clothes, and was wandering the edge

of the corrals. He reminded Charlie of the man who'd sometimes slept in the park, when she lived in Stockton.

"Who's he?" Charlie asked Lucy.

"I think his name is Wolf. Wolfie. Something like that. He sells horses, too, at his place on the edge of town. Or something."

"What sort of name is Wolfie?" Charlie asked. "And what do you mean, 'or something'? You say it like it's a mystery."

"I only know what I've overheard," Lucy said. "The adults always stop talking about him when I come into the room. I think

he's from far away. And the grownups act as though he's dangerous."

Charlie regarded the shabby appearing man as he walked nearby. "Dangerous, how?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know, exactly. My papa says I'm not to talk to him. Not ever."

"He just looks as though he's poor," Charlie observed.

Lucy leaned in closer. "He's only got one eye. One real one, I mean. The other eye is glass."

"A glass eye?"

"That's what I heard them say. You can't tell if he's really looking at you, because of it being a fake eye."

There was a whistle, and when Charlie turned to look, she saw that it was Scott, motioning for her to come. She

hopped down from her perch and told Lucy goodbye, running back across the street.

"Ready to head home?" Scott asked.

"Unless we stayed around to watch the auction for awhile," Charlie said, looking up at him hopefully. "Could we?"

"I've got a long list of things to get done today," Scott said. "Maybe we can come to another auction."

"Okay," Charlie said, with a sigh.

Once riding towards the ranch, Scott made conversation by mentioning Lucy.

"I saw you talking to Lucy. How was that?" he asked.

"It was good."

"It'll help, already knowing one other girl, at least, when school begins," he said, in encouragement.

"Yes."

After a bit of quiet, Charlie spoke. "How does a person get a glass eye?" she asked.

She'd surprised him by her question. She knew, because he turned a bit in the saddle to give her a questioning

look, before facing forward once again.

"A glass eye?" he asked. "What made you think of that?"

"I heard it somewhere. About a man that has one. I just wondered how he got it."

"Well, that depends. It could happen a lot of different ways," Scott began his explanation. "Could be due to an accident, or

an infection that set in-"

"I don't mean that, exactly," Charlie said.

"Well, what then?"

"I mean, how does he get it? You know. how does it get put in there?"

"Well," Scott hesitated, wondering how graphic to be. "A doctor, a surgeon, would give a person some medicine to put

them to sleep, and then they would take out the injured eye, and put the glass one in."

"Oh," Charlie said, sounding thoughtful. "Well, what keeps it in there? Why doesn't it fall out?"

Scott raised his eyebrows, which, since Charlie was behind him, he was the only one who knew they were being raised

in surprise.

"They would put it where the natural eye was, and then the eyelid can keep it in place," Scott said.

"Oh."

Scott couldn't help being a bit relieved when Charlie seemed content with his explanation. What sort of questions, he

thought, would this little girl come up with next?

Charlie took a gumdrop from the sack and popped it into her mouth, and then held out the sack to Scott.

"I thought those were for Murdoch," Scott said, twisting to give a half-smile.

"They are," Charlie said, returning his smile.

"The red ones are my favorite," Scott said, taking a gumdrop from the sack.

L

L


	2. A ring of grass

Once at home, Charlie went in search of Murdoch, finding him in the library, engrossed in stacks of paperwork.

She went to stand beside him, at the desk, and he looked up, over the top of his glasses. "Hello, my sweet. How was your

trip to town?"

"It was alright."

"So enthusiastic," he teased her.

"Scott made me go to the school, and meet the teacher."

Murdoch took his glasses off, laying them on the desk, and barely concealing his amusement. "Did he? What sort of

torture will he think of for you next?"

"Aw, Murdoch," Charlie said, giving him a half-smile. "You're teasing."

"What did you think of Miss Axton?"

"She was nice. I liked her," Charlie admitted. Then she added, "Of course, it's hard to tell about a person that you just

meet, don't you think?"

Murdoch reached out and pulled Charlie over close. "Are you striving to make a point of some sort, darling?"

"I just wish Scott would let me do home school for a little while."

Murdoch had heard this specific plea and argument before over the last bit of the summer, and so he was familiar with it.

"I believe that particular idea has been put forth, and rejected," Murdoch said. "Has it not?"

"Yes."

"Well, then." He paused, giving Charlie an intent look.

Charlie felt her face get warm in embarrassment. "I guess I have to go to the town school," she said, in grudging acceptance.

"I really believe that you'll enjoy it, once you get into the routine," Murdoch told her.

"I hope so." And then, remembering, Charlie pulled the sack of gumdrops from her side, and held it out to him. "We got you something."

Murdoch took the sack, pretending doubt. "It's not-it can't be gumdrops, can it?" He opened the sack. "And, it is. Thank you,

darling."

As Murdoch immediately took a couple of candies from the sack, Charlie resumed her good humor.

"I don't want to tattletale, but Scott ate all the red ones," she said, with a grin.

L

Later, once at the cool water of the shaded swimming hole, Charlie swam back over to the bank. Johnny lounged on the

grass there, his feet bare. Charlie sat at the edge of the water, watching him as he twisted blades of the green grass.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Makin' a grass ring."

"What's that?" Charlie asked.

Johnny looked up, surprised. "Didn't you ever make grass rings?" he asked her.

Charlie shook her head. "No. Never."

"Well, then," Johnny said, finishing and reaching out for one of her hands. "Here you go." He slipped the grass ring

onto one of her fingers.

"Thanks," Charlie told him.

"Sometimes I wonder about you. And Scott, too. I think the both of you missed out on a whole passel of things

that a kid's supposed to do," Johnny said, with a grin.

"I don't think Scott ever made grass rings, either," Charlie said.

"I'll bet that's right, too."

Charlie scooted over more on the creek bank to sit closer to him. "There was lots of things that I didn't know how to do

before I came here."

"Well, you're learnin' them now. That's what's important."

"Scott didn't know that Murdoch loves gumdrops," Charlie said. "I knew it, but he didn't."

"Murdoch?" Johnny asked, in exaggerated surprise. "Our Murdoch? He loves gumdrops? You must be teasin'."

"No. I'm not teasing. He really does," Charlie said, with a big smile at him.

"Well, there you go, pequeno. You knew somethin' about him that Scott or I neither one knew."

Charlie brought her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I think that's sort of nice. Knowing something

about him first. I wonder if Teresa knew."

"I've never heard her say a word about it. I'll bet she didn't. You'll have to tell her."

Johnny laid back a bit more, resting on his elbow.

"There was a horse auction today in town," Charlie told him.

Instantly Johnny's expression showed regret. "Was there? That's right. I forgot all about it."

"There were a lot of horses being brought in."

"I imagine so. It's going to continue tomorrow, too, I think," he said.

"Really?" Charlie asked, her thoughts already hopping.

"Now that I remember, yeah, I think it is."

"Could we go?" Charlie asked him, hopefully. "I wanted to stay today, but Scott said he had too much to do."

"I don't know," Johnny said, looking thoughtful. "I probably ought not to go. There is a lot of work to do."

"Just for a little while?" Charlie asked, doing what Scott called her 'wheedling'. "Please, Johnny?"

"Scott might decide to go tomorrow."

Charlie shook her head. "I don't think he will. He says he's not in the market for another horse."

She studied Johnny's face, and said again, "Will you take me? Please? I've never been to an auction like that, or seen

so many horses all in one place."

"I spose we could go," Johnny said, and Charlie unclasped her arms from her knees and flung them around his

neck.

"Yea!" she said, in excitement.

L

And so, it was, at the table, during the supper meal, that Charlie spoke animatedly about the horse auction.

Scott, in the process of cutting his steak, paused, knife in hand. He gave his brother a glance. "You let her talk you

into it, hmm?" he asked.

Johnny shook his head. "I was thinkin' about goin' in to take a look myself, anyway."

Scott turned to give Charlie a cautionary look. "Don't forget, you have those sums to finish. Have you done that?"

"I'm mostly finished with them," Charlie said.

"Mostly finished isn't finished," Scott told her.

Charlie nodded, but looked away from his gaze. She hated doing sums. She well and truly did hate it. Scott, and Murdoch too, Charlie suspected,

had decided that she needed to begin having some practice in order to prepare for school's beginning.

After she'd been sent upstairs at eight o'clock to prepare for bed, Charlie sat down at the desk in her bedroom, and

struggled thru several more of the arithmetic problems that Scott had written out. She gave up after completing five or six, going to

sit in her window seat, and look out, waiting for Scott to come upstairs.

When he did come, he tapped lightly, and Charlie called, "Come in!"

Scott opened the door, coming in, and Charlie turned to greet him with a giggle. "Scott, come and look! Jelly's trying to catch

his pig!"

Scott came over closer to the window, following where Charlie pointed. The sight of Jelly scrambling around, trying to persuade his

pig to get back into her pen caused Scott to smile.

"How'd she get out again?" Scott asked, shaking his head.

"She's a very intelligent pig. That's what Jelly says," Charlie reported.

"I don't imagine he's calling her anything as polite as intelligent right about now," Scott said wryly.

Scott tapped the book in his hand. They'd recently begun reading 'Black Beauty'.

"Want to sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the window seat. "Or on the bed?"

"Here," Charlie said, moving her feet and tucking them underneath herself, so there would be room for Scott to sit

down.

As he sat down, and began finding the page that they'd stopped on the evening before, Charlie said, "I think this is

the saddest book I've ever read."

"It is sad at times," Scott agreed.

And so, Scott read thru an entire chapter, before marking the page, and closing the book.

"It's getting interesting," Charlie said.

"It is."

"Have you read it before?" Charlie asked, the thought suddenly occurring to her that it might not be very interesting to him.

"No. I haven't. But, even if I have read a certain book before, it wouldn't bother me to read it again, with you," he said.

Charlie squeezed his arm. "That's nice," she said, with satisfaction.

Scott looked towards the desk, and said, "You've been working on your sums tonight?"

"Yes."

"How is it going?"

Charlie shrugged in answer.

"Do you want me to take a look?" he asked. "See if there's any that are incorrect?"

"They're all incorrect," Charlie said glumly.

"Oh, I doubt that," Scott said, and laid the book aside, standing up to go over to the desk. He picked up the crumpled paper, rife with numbers that had

been marked out, and redone. He walked back over to the window seat and sat down beside Charlie, still looking over the paper.

"It's horrible, right?" Charlie asked.

"No, it's not horrible." For the next few minutes Scott went over the sums that she'd completed, coaching her thru the ones

that needed to be refigured. Charlie found that with his help, sitting right beside her, that it wasn't so difficult, and things seemed

clearer.

"There you go," Scott said, in encouragement. "You're getting it."

He smoothed out the crumples in the paper. "You might try to take it easier on the paper. It's beginning to look rough."

"I get frustrated."

"No reason to be," Scott said, turning to look at her.

Charlie shrugged again. "I hate it. All of it. Figuring out the sum. Figuring out how to get the sum. Figuring out the

fastest way to get the sum. All of it."

"If you have that mindset, you'll set yourself up for frustration, true enough."

"I can't help it."

"You did a fine job, working them thru tonight," Scott told her.

"That's because you're sitting right here with me." Charlie turned her big eyes onto him. "It's different when I'm alone."

"Do it in stages. Steps, like I showed you just now. It will come easier with practice," Scott said.

"Ugh," Charlie said.

Scott tapped the paper that he still held. "Well, finish these tomorrow, alright? There's only six left. You should

be able to do that."

"Do I have to finish them before I go with Johnny, to the auction?" Charlie asked, pleadingly.

"I think you could, if you set your mind to it."

"Can I do them after we get back home again? Please?"

"Alright," he said, and got up, going to lay the paper back on the desk. He gestured towards the bed. "Come on. Time to

get settled, and asleep."

Charlie popped up, and once under the covers, she reached out to give Scott their customary hug goodnight.

L

The next morning at breakfast, Teresa was full of news of the evening before. She'd attended a party held at a friend's house,

and it had been a supper party, with dancing afterwards. When she talked about the young man she'd been courting, her eyes sparkled. Watching her,

Charlie thought it looked as though there was a candle lit up inside of Teresa.

Johnny uttered his customary comments, telling her that she was too interested in this particular suitor, and shouldn't be

so quick to tie herself down.

"I'm not doing any such thing," Teresa protested, and the conversation proceeded from there. With a comment or two from

Murdoch, it was prevented from reaching an argument.

"Teresa has good judgement," Murdoch defended. "And I have faith she'll continue to show it."

"Thank you," Teresa told him, and when she got up to begin clearing the table, she took Johnny's plate from

under his nose.

"Hey," he said in protest. "I wasn't finished!"

"Oh, I think you were," Teresa said, in a breezy tone, continuing on her way out of the dining room.

Charlie couldn't contain the giggle that escaped her. An action which earned her an eyebrow raised look from

Johnny.

"Who's side are you on, anyway, pequeno?" he accused.

L


	3. Curiousity

When Johnny and Charlie rode into town, there were even more people crowding the streets than there had been the day

before. Charlie clung, her arms around Johnny's waist, as he stopped and started, weaving thru the crowd of people, wagons and

buggies.

Once they'd left the horse at the stable, with water and oats, they began to walk around, working the way to the corrals where the

sale horses were being held. More were arriving.

There was standing room only around the arena, and Johnny said, "We'd best find a spot to stand, or you won't be able to

see anything."

Once the auction began, there was so much to see, all at once, that Charlie felt as though her head was spinning around. She

asked Johnny a few questions, but there was such a lot of noise, that it was hard to talk much.

A man wearing a white apron and pushing a small cart thru the crowd was calling out, "Cold drinks! Get your cold drinks!"

"Thirsty?" Johnny asked Charlie, and she nodded.

"Two, please," Johnny told the man, as he paused beside them. Johnny handed a couple of coins to the man, who pocketed them

in the front of the white apron, and handed off two brown bottles after opening them.

"Here you go," Johnny said, handing one of the bottle to Charlie.

Charlie took it, eyeing it a bit puzzled. She watched as Johnny tipped the bottle up and took a long drink, and then

leaned out over the arena fence.

Charlie took a drink, and tasted something she never had before.

"What is it?" she asked Johnny.

"Root beer. Have you never tried it?" Johnny asked, looking amused as Charlie took another sip, wrinkling her nose

a little at the unusual taste.

"No."

"You don't like it?" he asked.

"I like it," Charlie assured him. "It just takes a little getting used to."

Johnny laughed. "Well, drink up," he told her.

Charlie continued sipping at her drink, seeing other kids throughout the crowd that were drinking it as well. After awhile, she decided

that she really did like the half-sweet, half-bitter taste of the new drink.

Horse after horse came into the arena, and was auctioned off to a new owner. One caught Charlie's attention, in particular.

It had an obvious limp, and appeared old, and was rather thin.

The auctioneer kept trying to tempt bids from the crowd, but there weren't many.

"Is it old?" Charlie asked Johnny.

"He's old."

"Why is nobody bidding on him?" Charlie asked, looking about the crowd.

"I guess they figure that he's seen his best days," Johnny said.

Charlie had her mouth open to say more, when the horse was led from the arena, and then, watching, Charlie saw

him handed off. It seemed that the person who took the horse looked familiar. And then, remembering, Charlie thought

it was the raggedy-dressed man that Lucy had pointed out the day before. The one that was 'mysterious'.

When he faded from sight, Charlie continued watching the auction, her thoughts still on the older horse.

When Lucy spoke from behind, Charlie was startled.

"Hello!"

"Oh! Hello," Charlie said, jumping a little.

Lucy giggled. "Did I scare you?"

Instead of waiting for an answer, Lucy talked on. "Can you come over to my house? My papa said I could ask you. I have

a new swing, and we can play on it."

"Um, I don't know," Charlie said, looking at Johnny.

"Please come. This is so tiresome," Lucy said, with a sigh. "I don't see what's so interesting about watching horses walk

around in a circle."

Charlie found the auction quite the opposite of tiresome. She was enjoying seeing all the horses, and being around the hubbub of

the crowd. Still, it might be fun to go to Lucy's house for a bit.

She looked up at Johnny. "Lucy's asked me over to her house for awhile. Is it alright?"

Johnny regarded both little girls, and said, "Just to Lucy's house, though, alright? Don't either one of you

run off to get married today."

Lucy giggled, and Johnny smiled at her.

"I'll stay awhile longer, and then I'll come over to the Stone's and collect ya, alright?" he said, to Charlie.

Charlie nodded, and went off with Lucy. They set out walking, with Lucy barely taking a breath between words.

Charlie thought that she'd never heard anybody talk so much before. Still, Lucy was her one friend here so far. So, a person

needed to overlook certain things.

Charlie caught sight of the ragged man again, the one who'd taken the older horse. He was walking very slowly, leading the

horse, as if heading out of town on the main street.

"Look," she said, pausing, and pointing.

"What?" Lucy asked.

"It's that man. The one you said your papa says not to talk to. The one with the glass eye."

"Oh. Yes. Come on," Lucy said, with a light tug on Charlie's arm. "My house isn't much further."

"I wonder what he wanted that old horse for," Charlie said, still standing there, pondering.

"I think he eats them," Lucy said.

"No, he doesn't!" Charlie said, horrified.

Lucy shrugged. "That's what I heard my brother telling one of his friends."

"Let's follow him," Charlie said. "Just for a little way."

"I'm not supposed to talk to him! I told you that!"

"I didn't say that we'd talk to him. Just follow him a bit," Charlie said.

"Well-" Lucy said, hesitating, and Charlie seized her advantage.

"Come on," she said, giving Lucy a pull.

The two girls walked, a cautious distance behind the man. It seemed that once out of the main part of town, the

man was there, and then suddenly, he was not.

"Where did he go?" Charlie asked, stopping and looking all around, puzzled.

"He can make himself disappear," Lucy said, sounding as though she truly believed it.

"No one can do that," Charlie protested. "Where is his house? How much further?"

"Not very far. Just over the hill, there."

"Show me," Charlie said. "Please, Lucy?"

"And then we'll go right back?"

"Yes. Right back."

"Well, alright," Lucy said, sounding reluctant. The girls walked on, just a bit, and Lucy pointed.

"There."

The word house was a bit much for what was just in the front of them. Or so Charlie thought. It was barely a shell of a house.

More of a decrepit shack. A couple of hound dogs laid out front. Tar paper hung at the one window.

"He lives there?" Charlie asked, more to herself, than to Lucy.

"Uh huh. Come on. Let's go back."

Charlie gave a last look around, and then turned to go with Lucy. They hadn't walked very far, when there was a shout

from behind. It was a garbled sort of shout, and hard to make out. Lucy jumped, and Charlie was startled, as well.

"He's yelling at us!" Lucy said, sounding frightened.

Charlie gave a look back, the shack barely still in sight. She thought she saw a movement from the side of the house.

"He doesn't want us around!" Lucy said, and began running.

Charlie broke into a run, as well. It was that, or be left behind.

They were back onto the main street before Lucy stopped running. She must have felt safe once again in the midst

of people. She stopped, her face red from running.

Charlie, who'd had plenty of running experience when she ran with the wild group of kids in Stockton, wasn't so

out of breath as Lucy.

She found her adrenaline was pumping.

"He was going to kill us!" Lucy said.

"He wasn't," Charlie protested. "We don't even know if he was yelling at us."

Lucy remained unconvinced of Charlie's logic, and continued insisting that the man was evil, and meant them harm.

Once at Lucy's house, her mother offered them cookies and lemonade, and the girls had only just begun their

turns on Lucy's new swing, when Johnny came.

"Does Charlie have to go already, Mr. Lancer?" Lucy asked, sounding disappointed. "We just got started swinging."

"We need to get headin' home," Johnny told her.

"Oh," Lucy said, looking sulky.

Charlie said her goodbyes, and she and Johnny walked back across town, towards the stable.

"Is the auction still going on?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah. It's bound to last quite a while longer. It's nearly lunchtime. Do you want to go to the hotel and get somethin'

to eat?"

Charlie nodded. Her stomach had been grumbling, even after the cookies that Lucy's mother had offered.

Once at a table in the hotel restaurant, Johnny set his hat aside, and ordered two lunch specials. He nodded

towards the root beer bottle that Charlie still carried.

"What are you doin', still carrying that around?" Johnny asked.

Charlie set the bottle on the table, next to his hat. "I'm going to keep it," she said.

"How come?"

"Because I can use it to keep wildflowers in. And, it's a remembrance. Of spending time with you at my first

horse auction, and my first time tasting root beer," Charlie told him.

Johnny smiled at her, his blue eyes sparkling. "I'm glad if you had a good time."

"I did," Charlie assured him.

As they waited for their food to be brought to the table, Charlie decided to question Johnny.

"Do you know that old man who lives on the edge of town?" she asked him. "The one who has a glass eye?"

"No, I don't. What man is this?"

"Lucy says he has a glass eye, and he lives in a shack at the edge of town. She says he doesn't talk to anyone much."

"Hmm."

"He took that old horse today. The one that no one would bid on at the auction," Charlie told him.

Johnny only raised his eyebrows in answer, and Charlie talked on.

"Why would he want the old horse, do you think, Johnny?" she asked.

"He might figure that he can get some work out of the horse."

"Do you think he might be mean to it?" Charlie asked, her eyes wide with concern.

"I don't know, pequeno. I don't know him, so I can't say. I hope not."

The waitress brought their steaming plates of food, and they began to eat.

"Lucy says her brother said that he eats horses," Charlie said.

"Lucy's brother does?" Johnny asked, pouring sugar into his coffee, and grinned.

"No, silly. The man."

"I doubt that."

"She says that he's dangerous, and she's not supposed to talk to him."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. But he doesn't look dangerous to me. He just looks poor. And his house isn't a house at all. It's just a shack, with

tar paper on the window. It's ugly."

Johnny paused, regarding her with more intent. "How is that you know that?" he asked her.

Charlie looked at Johnny over the top of her glass of milk. "Lucy showed me," she admitted.

"Was that what you were supposed to do?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We didn't go close-" Charlie said, her voice trailing off.

"You were supposed to go to Lucy's house. Just Lucy's house," he reminded her.

Charlie set her glass down, licking her lips, and studying him across the table. He didn't look particularly vexed. He

did look serious, however.

"Yes," she said.

"Should I not believe ya, then? When you tell me somethin'?" he asked.

Charlie felt her face get warm. "You can. Believe me, I mean."

"Hmmm," he said, and began eating again.

After a few minutes of silent eating, Charlie asked, "Are you angry with me?"

"No."

Charlie sighed with relief. "That's good," she said.

"That doesn't mean that I want ya to make a habit of this. Sayin' one thing and doin' another." He gave Charlie a

serious look. "Understand, pequeno?"

"Yes, Johnny."

"Alright. Eat your lunch."

Charlie nodded, and took a bite of her mashed potatoes. "I'm gonna ask Murdoch if he knows anything about that man."

L


	4. Sharing snippets

Once back at Lancer, Johnny went off to join the men with ranch work. Charlie took the bottle from her earlier root beer

up to her bedroom, and set it on her dresser. Planning to fill it with wildflowers, she put on her faded overalls and old boots,

and went downstairs to the kitchen.

When Maria asked Charlie about the auction, Charlie spoke animatedly, talking a mile a minute, while

Maria smiled indulgently.

" _Donde esta, Murdoch?" (Where is Murdoch?)_

 _"Con el senor Scott fuera." (With Senor Scott outside)_

Charlie found that she enjoyed practicing conversing with Maria and Johnny in Spanish. She could only manage basic

words, but was able to follow more than what she could speak. She knew, for example, that the word 'fuera' meant outside,

so the rest of her phrase wasn't hard to decipher.

After she'd finished off a glass of cold apple cider, Charlie went outside, to look after the barn cats, and to feed Gurth

a couple of apples. She was in the pasture doing that when she saw Scott riding up with Cip. She waited, while they

rode up.

"Hey, there," Scott greeted her, pulling to a stop.

"Hi!" Charlie said.

Cip gave Charlie a smile, and a nod, and rode on.

"How was the auction?" Scott asked her.

Charlie rested her hand on Scott's boot. "It was interesting. There were so many horses!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Scott held down a hand. "Want a ride up to the house?"

Charlie eagerly reached up for his hand, and Scott swung her up, and behind him.

Charlie chattered on about the auction, and trying root beer.

"Did you like it?" Scott asked her.

Charlie wrinkled her nose, and leaned to the left to see his face. "Not at first, I didn't. But, after I got used to the

taste, I liked it. Have you tried it?"

"No," Scott said, sounding amused. "I haven't."

"You have to, then," Charlie said adamantly.

"Well, maybe I will, then."

"I saw Lucy, too," Charlie shared.

"That's good."

"Johnny said I could go to her house, so I did."

"I'm glad you're becoming good friends with her," Scott said.

They rode in silence for a few minutes, and then, nearly to the corral again, Charlie asked, "Do you know a man in town

called Wolfie?"

"Wolfie? No, I'm fairly certain that I don't. Who's that?"

"Maybe it's just plain Wolf, not Wolfie."

Scott shook his head. "I don't think I've heard of anybody named Wolf, either."

"He lives outside of town, in a little shack. And he dresses all raggedy."

"How did you hear about him?" Scott asked her, pulling up, and lowering her the ground, and then dismounting himself.

"Lucy told me about him yesterday, and then I saw him again today. She said how he lives outside of town. He took an old horse from the auction, when

nobody else would buy it."

"Hmm," Scott said, in reply.

"He has a glass eye!"

Scott gave Charlie an appraising glance. "Is that why you were asking about glass eyes yesterday?"

Charlie nodded.

When Scott began unsaddling, Charlie talked on. "Lucy said that he doesn't talk to anybody around town. She

made it seem as though he's mysterious."

"Mysterious, huh?"

"Uh huh. I guess he is still sort of mysterious," Charlie mused. "Not talking to people much, and living alone that way."

"Maybe he just likes his solitude," Scott pointed out.

Charlie considered that. While she was thinking it over, Scott changed the topic of the conversation.

"Two more days and then school begins," he said.

Charlie gave him a wry glance. "I guess," she said, with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

"Attitude can account for more than half of the battle to a situation," Scott said.

Without him saying anything further, Charlie knew that Scott meant for her to be more positive about school, and to

do her best.

L

Teresa, however, knew just who Charlie was talking about. Helping to carry food platters to the table, Charlie asked

her, and Teresa nodded in response.

"That man? Yes, I know who you're talking about."

"You do?" Charlie asked, with renewed hope in the mystery.

"Oh, yes. When he comes into the mercantile, he doesn't speak to anyone. He just gets his supplies and goes as quickly

as he's able to."

As the two girls took their seats at the table, Johnny asked, "How have I not seen this fellow?"

"He's not around often," Teresa said.

"You know him, Murdoch?" Johnny asked, looking down the table to his father.

"I don't recall. If I have met him, I must not have been paying close attention," Murdoch answered.

The platter with roast beef was passed from hand to hand.

During the serving of the gravy, Charlie prattled on. "He has a glass eye! Scott says when they put that in, that

the doctor takes the real eye out to put the other one in. It's probably all squishy, don't you, think?" she asked the table

in general. "Sort of slippery with lots of blood-"

"Charlie," Murdoch began to caution.

Charlie looked up, laying the gravy spoon back against the bowl, turning towards Murdoch expectantly.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I think Murdoch means that's not the sort of conversation to have at the dinner table," Scott told her.

"Oh," Charlie said, looking a bit embarrassed. "Sorry."

"I don't mean to scold you, sweetheart," Murdoch said.

"He does have a glass eye," Teresa volunteered, passing the bowl of green beans to her right to Murdoch. "It's

difficult to tell if he's looking at you or not."

"That's what Lucy said, too," Charlie said, her embarrassment forgotten.

"He gives me the willies," Teresa said.

"Why?" Charlie asked her, pausing, with her fork halfway to her mouth.

"Because. He's just strange," Teresa said, vaguely. "The way he avoids people, and hurries away if he thinks he's

being looked at. And he needs a bath."

"Could be that the man just wants to be left alone," Scott said, repeating what he'd told Charlie earlier in the day,

about solitude.

"Just because a man's in need of a bath ain't a reason to shun him," Johnny told Teresa, his tone

reproachful.

"I didn't mean it like that," Teresa said, looking regretful.

"His house is just a little shack," Charlie threw in. "Maybe he doesn't have a bathtub."

That caught Scott's attention, and he looked across the table at Charlie. "Didn't you say Lucy told you he lives

outside of town?"

Charlie swallowed her bite of mashed potatoes. "Yes."

"Did you walk out to it?" he asked then.

Charlie cast her glance to Johnny, for support. And then her eyes returned to Scott. "Lucy showed me where it was,"

she said reluctantly.

"How far out is it?" Scott asked then.

"Not far," Charlie said, her face feeling warm.

"Foolish to take a risk as that," Murdoch interjected. "Not knowing a man, to go to his home that way."

"I didn't, Murdoch!" Charlie said earnestly. "We stopped a good ways from it! We just looked."

"What was the point of that?" Scott asked.

Charlie looked at him, trying to judge how vast his irritation was.

"I was just curious, is all," she admitted.

"I already talked to the kid about it," Johnny spoke up. "We have an understandin'. Isn't that so, pequeno?"

Charlie cast a grateful glance at Johnny. "Yes."

When she turned back, Scott was still surveying her, looking serious, but he said no more about it, and

the topic of conversation changed.

L


	5. Val and Lemonade

After they'd finished with their evening meal, the rest of the family went to the library to sit and visit. Charlie went off to the

kitchen, where she helped Maria dry the dishes. There was a knocking on the front door, and when Charlie went to peek out, curious,

she saw that it was Teresa's beau, come calling.

She told Maria, in halting Spanish, who it was. Maria, busy setting the last of the plates back into the cabinet,

nodded, and smiled.

Maria began to talk rapidly, and Charlie tilted her head, trying to follow. She determined that it was about refreshments

that she would prepare for the guest. Maria then waved Charlie away, shooing her towards the library.

" _Vey Dile a Teresa."_ (Go tell Teresa).

Charlie went out of the kitchen, walking towards the library, and she paused, as Teresa and Murdoch, along with the young

man, Don Jackson, walked from the front door.

During a break in the passing conversation, Charlie said, "Maria says she's fixing up some things to eat. Coffee and cake."

Teresa nodded, looking so happy that Charlie was once again reminded of a candle's light.

Charlie managed a large piece of Maria's chocolate cake, and, after Teresa and her beau had gone to sit outside

together, she sat, curled up next to Scott, while he talked with Murdoch.

When the clock struck eight times, Scott said, "Time to get ready for bed."

"Can I stay up just awhile longer?" Charlie asked. "I want to wait until Teresa comes back inside."

"Teresa doesn't need you asking her a lot of questions," Scott said, and Murdoch chuckled.

After a couple of moments, when Charlie was still sitting there, Scott said, in reminder, "Eight o'clock, Charlie."

Charlie gave a sigh, and then stood up, going to give Murdoch a hug. She went up the stairs, and to her bedroom. She

got into her nightgown, and washed her face at the wash bowl. She was sitting, cross-legged on her bed, looking thru one

of Murdoch's books, when Scott came in.

He came over to sit down on the bed, the springs creaking a bit from his weight. "What book are you looking at?" he asked.

Charlie tilted the book so he could see the title. "It tells about lots of far away places," she said, with enthusiasm.

Scott started flipping thru the book. "Did you brush your teeth?" he asked.

"No," Charlie admitted, and then flashing dimpled smile at him. "I washed my face."

"Good. Go brush your teeth."

Charlie giggled, and bounced off the bed, going out and down the hall to the washroom. When she bounced back

in, Scott was reading thru a page of the book.

Charlie scrambled back up to sit beside Scott, and they looked at the book for a few minutes together.

"Have you traveled far?" Charlie asked him.

"Not too far."

"From Boston to here, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Where else?" Charlie asked.

"Places in the war. Virginia."

"But no where like in here?" Charlie asked him, pointing to the illustrations in the book.

"No. Nowhere like that."

"Would you want to go? To these places, like Africa?" she asked.

"I think it'd be interesting, for sure. But, at this time of my life, no, I wouldn't want to travel that far."

Scott closed the book, and held up the copy of Black Beauty.

"Ready to read?" he asked.

Charlie nodded, and leaned against his shoulder, as he read thru nearly a full chapter.

When he'd marked the page, Charlie asked, "Can we read something from Louisa Mae Alcott when we finish this?"

"If that's what you want to read next."

"Okay," Charlie said, slipping her hand thru the crook of his arm.

"I thought I'd take you to school, with it being the first day and all," Scott said.

Charlie rubbed her cheek against the fabric of his shirt, and when she was quiet, he asked, "Or, would you rather go by

yourself?"

Realizing that he'd misunderstood her silence, and thought that she didn't want him with her, Charlie said, quickly, "No. I want

you to take me."

"Alright."

"I hope I'm not far behind in the lessons," Charlie said, biting at her lower lip in worry.

"I'm sure that you're not. And, even if you were to be, we'll get you caught up soon enough," Scott said, in reassurance.

Once Charlie was under the quilt, Scott gave the blankets an extra tucking in.

L

The next day, the last day before school began, Charlie was on the go from sunrise to bedtime. She tended to the kittens,

helped Jelly with his pig, picked peppers and onions from the garden for Maria. When, in the afternoon, Murdoch came from riding

fences to say that he was going into town, Charlie immediately took notice.

As she followed Murdoch towards the house, as he talked with Cip, she was quiet, waiting for her opportunity to speak. Once inside,

in the coolness of the house, Charlie spoke up. "Are you taking the buggy into town?" she asked.

Murdoch paused, in his action of pulling off his gloves. "I hadn't planned to. Why do you ask?"

"I thought that if you were going to take the buggy, that you might let me drive," Charlie said hopefully.

A look into the twinkle of his eyes, and Charlie knew that he'd been aware of her intent even before she asked the question.

"Oh, you thought that, did you?" Murdoch asked her.

Charlie gave him a dimpled smile. "Can we? Go in the buggy?"

"I suppose we can," Murdoch said, giving her a smile in return.

"Yay!"

Murdoch took in Charlie's dirty and rumpled overalls. "Go and change your clothes before we go."

"Alright." Charlie began to run towards the staircase, and then paused, looking back at Murdoch. "Do I have to wear a dress?"

Murdoch regarded her fondly. "I think it would be nice if you did."

Not certain if that was a yes, or no, answer to her question, Charlie could tell that it would please him if she did wear a dress.

So, she ran on up the staircase, stripping off her dusty clothes, and washing her face and hands. She picked a simple blue dress

from her wooden wardrobe, and pulled on her petticoat and the dress.

Once dressed, Charlie undid her braid, and gave a quick brush thru of her auburn curls.

She heard Murdoch calling her from the foot of the stairs, and she laid her hairbrush on the dresser and ran down the

stairs.

"Ready, darling?" he asked, holding out his hand to her.

"I am, if I don't put my hair up," Charlie said.

"It looks fine," he said, and they went outside, where Jelly had finishing hitching up the buggy. While Murdoch stopped to

speak with Jelly, Charlie clambered on into the buggy, taking up the reins, and talking to Dobs, the horse that was hitched.

Dobs, eager to go, took a few tentative steps.

"Charlie. Wait," Murdoch warned.

Charlie pulled back a bit on the reins.

Once Murdoch was installed in the buggy seat beside her, Charlie looked to him. "Now?" she asked.

"Now."

Near town, Murdoch didn't take the reins from her as he usually did when they entered streets with other buggies.

Charlie made as if to hand him the reins, and Murdoch said, "You can do it."

Prompted by his confidence in her, Charlie did her best to guide Dobs down the main street.

"We're going to the bank," Murdoch instructed her.

Charlie drove on, and only had to have Murdoch's guiding hand over her own, on the reins, at one corner of the street.

Once in front of the bank, Murdoch got out of the buggy, and then gave Charlie a lift down.

"I'll be a bit," he told her.

"May I walk around?" Charlie asked.

"I suppose that would be alright," Murdoch said. He reached into his pocket, and then handed her a coin. "For some

candy," he told her indulgently.

"Thank you."

He then pulled his pocket watch out, and gave it a glance. "It's half-past two. See that you're back here, at the bank, in

half an hour. Alright?"

"Yes."

Murdoch looked thoughtful for a moment, and then handed her the watch and chain. "Here. This will help you keep track of the

time."

When Charlie nodded, Murdoch turned to go into the bank, saying, "I don't want to have to go hunting after you. Alright?"

"Yes, Murdoch. I'll be here. Thirty minutes. I promise."

L

Filled with the feeling of freedom to walk and poke around in the stores for a bit, Charlie couldn't help the contentment

she felt. First, she went to the mercantile, and bought a sack of gumdrops to share with Murdoch, and then, since there was

still money left, she got a stick of black licorice as well.

Chewing on the licorice, Charlie walked on down the street, hoping she might see Lucy and talk to her for a bit. She thought

about walking to see Mr. Val, but, heading that way, she heard a woman hollering.

Something along the lines of 'trash!' and other things that Charlie couldn't decipher. She paused, and took a few steps back,

looking into the alley. She saw the ragged-dressed man from the edge of town, as he made his way thru the alley and past

Charlie.

Charlie took a few instinctive steps backward. It wasn't that she was afraid. The man was just moving so fast. He swept past

Charlie, nearly brushing into her.

"My pardon, miss," he said.

He was gone before Charlie could get a close look at his face, still curious as she was about that glass eye of his.

A woman came out from the café, her apron covered with cooking spills.

"Did you see a man come this way?" she asked Charlie. "A vagrant?"

Not sure whether to answer truthfully, Charlie was thinking over her words, when the woman gave her full attention to

Charlie.

"Well, did you?" she asked, in a snappish tone.

"I don't know if I saw a vagrant," Charlie settled for saying. After all, maybe the man wasn't really a vagrant...

"A nuisance, that's what he is," the woman complained, bringing the corner of her apron up to wipe at her face. She lowered it,

and said, "Aren't you the girl stayin' with the Lancers?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's nice," the woman said, looking more friendly. "I've known Murdoch Lancer for a good many years. He's a fine man."

"I think so, too," Charlie said.

"How do you like it there? Living with all of them?"

"I like it just fine."

"You'll have every opportunity, that's for certain-" she began, and then broke off to call out, "Val!"

Charlie watched as the sheriff paused in his walking, and came over to greet them.

"Hello there, Just Charlotte," he greeted Charlie.

"Hello, Mr. Val."

"What can I do for you, Wilma?" he asked the woman.

"You can tell me what you're goin' to do about that piece of trash-he was around here again, just now, snooping thru

my barrels out back of the café!"

"Did he harm any property, Wilma?" Val asked.

Sounding infuriated, the woman put her hands on her hips, and snapped, "No, he didn't harm any property! But he's harming

my nerves!"

"I can't rightly arrest a man for causing your nerves to jump, Wilma," Val said calmly, and Charlie resisted the urge to giggle.

The woman called Wilma rose to her full height, and said, sounding affronted, "When we elect a sheriff, it seems to me that he's

bound to do his duty to the folks in this town!"

"And, I surely will do just that, Wilma. As soon as he takes something that doesn't belong to him, or threatens you, then I'll

arrest him."

"Oh! Bah!" she said, and waved a dismissing hand at Val, turning to stomp back into the café.

Charlie turned to look up at Val, her eyes wide in question.

"She's sure enough mad," Charlie observed.

"Wilma's bark is worse than her bite," Val said, seemingly unperturbed. He gave Charlie a smile. "What are you doing in

town?"

"I came in with Murdoch. He's at the bank."

"Ah," Val said, with a nod.

"Why is she so mad at that man?" Charlie asked, curiously.

"She feels he's a pest, that's all."

"Is that the man that lives on the edge of town, in that shack? The one with the glass eye?" Charlie asked. She was

certain of the answer already, but she wanted to see if Val would shed any new light on the mystery.

Val gave Charlie an amused look. "Wilma give you all that information, did she?"

"No. I knew it already."

"Ah."

"Is he a bad man?" Charlie persisted.

"I don't know as I'd say that," Val said. "How about I treat you to a lemonade?"

Unsatisfied with the answers thus far, Charlie studied him. "Can I ask you some more questions then?"

Val studied her out of sky-blue eyes. "Why don't we just have a lemonade?" he said.

L

Val went into the bank, to locate Murdoch, and tell him that he and Charlie would be over at the hotel restaurant, having

a cold lemonade. As she waited out front of the bank for Val, Charlie saw the man again. Not in front of the stores, but going down

another alley. He was now carrying a burlap bag, and walking slowly. Stiffly. As if it hurt his joints to walk at all.

Puzzled, Charlie watched until he disappeared again.

When Val came out, they walked across the street together, to the hotel. Val ordered two glasses of lemonade, and asked

Charlie if she wanted a piece of pie.

"Cherry?" she asked hopefully.

"If that's what you want," Val said, and ordered two pieces of cherry pie.

When the waitress had bustled away again, Charlie leaned her elbows on the table, and studied Val.

"Why does that lady, Wilma, think that man is such a pest?" Charlie asked.

"I imagine it's because he's around a lot, going thru her barrels and such. Generally getting in her way."

"Where does he work?" Charlie asked. "Somewhere around here?"

"He doesn't work that I know of."

"Where does he get his money? To buy food and things?"

Val, about to answer, paused as the waitress delivered their drinks and plates of pie.

Once they were alone again, Val took a bite of his pie, and chewed, looking at Charlie.

"Why so many questions?" he asked.

Charlie shrugged in answer, and when Val continued to look at her intently, Charlie felt her face get warm.

"I'm just curious," she defended herself.

"Well, let's see. He's been around here, about as long as I have, I reckon. Doesn't come into town much. When he does,

he's usually in a hurry. Doesn't stand around to talk to anybody."

"Does he have a family?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know the answer to that. I've never seen him with anybody."

"Oh," Charlie said, and subsided a bit, as they ate their pie.

Val asked Charlie a few questions about school beginning, and such as that. From the window they could see

Murdoch walking towards the hotel.

"Before Murdoch comes in, I just have one thing to say to you," Val said, and Charlie looked at him, wondering at

his sudden serious tone.

"I don't know that the man's a bad fellow. But, I don't know that he's a good one, either. So, let's agree that you steer

clear of him. Agreed?"

Charlie hesitated. She didn't know why it was hard to promise such. But, it seemed to be.

"I haven't done anything," she said, steering around the subject. "Just looked at him. And saw his house. That's all."

"I wasn't accusing you of anything," Val said. "All I'm saying is, best not to be so curious about him."

Charlie was studying him, and Murdoch was nearly upon them, entering the door of the hotel, and Val said,

"Charlie? Are you hearing me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Val said, getting to his feet to shake hands with Murdoch.

L


	6. Nerves

That night, though Scott read a few extra minutes, and spent some time after their reading just talking, Charlie found that

she felt as jumpy as a flea inside, thinking of school.

Charlie was still fretting over the fact that she knew only Lucy of the children who would be at school the next day.

"I guess we should have gotten you acquainted with some other kids around here," Scott said, sounding regretful. "Time just

seemed to get away this summer."

"At least I know Lucy," Charlie said, not wanting Scott to feel badly, as though it was his fault she hadn't met any other kids.

"That's right, you do," he said, and gave her an approving smile. "And I bet you'll make some more friends right off."

"I hope I do," Charlie said, wishing she had Scott's confidence.

After that, they talked of other things. "I saw Mr. Val today," she told Scott.

"Did you?"

"Yes. He bought me a lemonade."

"That was kind of him."

"Yes," Charlie said again. "Is he married, or anything like that?"

Scott looked amused. "No. He's not married, or anything like that. Why do you ask?"

"I just wondered. If he was, or if he had kids."

"No. No kids, either."

Remembering how she'd disliked the sheriff when she'd first come to stay at Lancer, Charlie said, "He's real nice."

"Yes, he is. He's a good man," Scott agreed.

Finally, after Scott had ordered her to lay down, and scrunch down under the quilt, Charlie kept on talking, wanting to keep him

there with her a bit longer.

"I met a lady today. Wilma, is what Mr. Val said her name was. She was working at the café."

"Uh huh. Wilma Stark. She owns the café."

"She was hollering at Mr. Val. He said her bark is worse than her bite."

"What had Wilma all stirred up?" Scott asked.

"She saw the man, the one with the glass eye, behind the café looking in her barrels, and she was real upset about it."

"Ah. Well," Scott said, which Charlie felt wasn't really an answer at all.

"What would she keep in those barrels?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know entirely. Some trash, more than likely."

"Why would she care if someone went thru her trash?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know," Scott said again. "I'm sure she has her reasons."

"Well, why would he want to go thru someone else's trash?" Charlie asked then.

"It might be that he was looking for something that he could repair to use. Something like that, maybe."

Charlie thought a moment or so. Remembering the man in the park in Stockton.

Scott tucked the blankets in more firmly around her. "Time to be getting to sleep," he said.

"Alright," Charlie agreed, but then went on talking.

"You know something else, though?" she asked.

"What?"

"It was really strange. When I saw the man leaving the alley, after the lady from the café hollered at him? Well, he was

walking pretty fast. But then, just a few minutes later, I saw him again, and he was walking all stiff, and slow."

"Hmmm," Scott said.

"Don't you think that's sort of strange?" Charlie asked him.

"There could be all sorts of explanations for that."

"Well, but I still think it's strange," Charlie insisted.

Scott leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "Let's leave the mysteries for another day, alright? You need to get to sleep."

"It is sort of like a mystery, isn't it?" Charlie said, seizing upon the thought.

"Yes. It is. Now put it out of your mind for right now."

Charlie caught at his hand, as he moved to stand up. "Sit with me a little longer. Please?"

Scott paused, looking at her intently. "Alright. But no more talking."

Charlie held his hand until she was so still, and so quiet, that Scott thought she was asleep. He reached over and turned

down the lamp, and then stood up, going to the door of the room.

"Scott?" she asked, in a sleepy voice.

Scott paused at the door, half open, to look back over towards the bed. "I thought you were asleep."

"I almost am. Will you still go with me in the morning? Into school?"

"Yes. I'll go with you."

"Okay."

"Good night."

"Night," Charlie said, and turned over as he closed the door, pulling the quilt up over her chin.

L

The next morning, Charlie was dressed in a burnished brown dress, with minimal frills, and Teresa did her braid, tying

a matching bow at the end.

"Thanks, Teresa," Charlie said, lacking her usual vivaciousness.

The older girl reached down and gave Charlie an impulsive hug.

"You're going to be just fine!" Teresa encouraged.

"Did you go to the school here?" Charlie asked, knowing that Scott or Johnny had neither one attended the local school.

"I sure did. And, you know what else? Your teacher is a friend of mine!"

Charlie recognized Teresa's comments for what they were, being encouragement. She felt suddenly very lucky

to have Teresa.

"You're sort of like a sister, you know?" she offered to Teresa.

Teresa smiled, obviously pleased.

"Well, thank you. That's how I think of you, too." She gave Charlie's braid a final pat. "There you go. Let's get down to

breakfast."

After breakfast, which Charlie managed to enjoy, despite her nerves, she and Scott set out for town, in the buggy.

After a quiet spell, Scott asked, "Still feeling nervous?"

"A little. But not as much as I was before."

"That's good."

Once in town, though, and nearing the school, Charlie scooted over closer to him, and Scott felt her tremble, even

if she wouldn't admit to it.

He pulled up outside the school. There were already children swarming the school yard, and going inside, and several other

wagons were present, fathers driving, and daughters being delivered.

"Do you want me to go inside with you?" Scott asked. He, himself, was a bit unsure of what was right at the moment, and

decided to let Charlie take the lead. Charlie risked a look, and saw that the other two girls being driven by their fathers

were preparing to go inside alone.

So, she shook her head. "No, that's alright," she said, though in truth, she would have much rather had him beside her

as she walked in.

"I'll be here after school," Scott said then, and gave her an encouraging smile.

Charlie nodded, and then bit at her lip a bit, picking up her slate and lunch pail. She hopped down from the buggy,

and sighed. "See you later," she said.

"See you later," Scott echoed, and watched until Charlie had gone inside the school building with all the others, and

the door had been closed.

L


	7. Monte the Menace

That day, while working alongside of his brother, or one of the ranch hands, Scott's thoughts kept returning to Charlie, and wondering

how she was faring on her first day of school.

At one point, he was surprised to hear Johnny say, "She'll be fine."

Scott turned a questioning look in Johnny's direction. "What?"

Johnny grinned. "The kid. She'll be fine. Stop worryin' so much."

"Who said I was worrying?" Scott returned, picking up another sack of grain from the wagon they were unloading, and

putting it on his shoulder.

In answer, Johnny just shook his head knowingly, and lifted the next sack of grain.

If Scott were to have admitted it, he was a bit worried. Concerned. The first day was such an important thing. It could

swing Charlie's attitude about school to either loving it or feeling as though it was something unpleasant to be gotten thru. And, since

he wished for her to love school, and learning, as much as he himself had, he was hoping it was the former.

He found the same two fathers waiting at the school when he arrived. Conversing with them made the last few minutes before

school dismissed pass quicker.

When Charlie came out, she was walking beside Lucy and another little girl. She looked around, as if to see where he was at, and then,

spotting him, waiting beside the buggy with Thor hitched to it, she ran towards him.

"Hello, Scott!" she greeted him, and he was glad to see the smile on her face.

"Hello," he answered, and ran his hand over the top of her hair. "How was your day?"

Charlie began chattering then, and kept it up nearly the entire distance back to the ranch. She talked about the teacher, and the other

students, and how she'd been included at the lunch break with a number of the other girls.

"And some of them wanted to know what I had in my lunch," she reported. "So I told them that Maria made them, and they're called

churros, and they wanted to try it, so I shared the last one."

"That was nice," Scott commented, as she talked on.

"Mostly all the girls are nice. There's only two that aren't very."

"What about the lessons?" he broke in to ask. "Does it seem as though you're on track, or do you have some catching up to do?"

"Maybe a bit of catching up," Charlie said. "In arithmetic. And Miss Susan says my handwriting needs some practice."

"Well, I guess we'll have to work on that then," Scott said.

"Yes. How are things at home?" Charlie asked. "How are the kittens? Did Jelly tend to them?"

"I believe he did."

"That's good," Charlie said, and seemed to take a breath. "Will you help me with the sums she assigned to us?"

"I'll help you."

"Can I go for a ride on Gurth before supper?" Charlie asked.

"It's 'may I'," Scott corrected. "And let's wait on that. After you change your clothes, you need to do your chores. After supper, it's time

for schoolwork. Then reading, and bed."

Charlie looked crestfallen. "Is that how it will be now, every day? No time for anything else, because of school?"

"I don't think it will be that horrible," Scott said, smiling at her. "Let's get settled into a routine first, and then we'll see about

horseback riding. Alright?"

"I guess so," Charlie said, not sounding pleased.

Scott knew he should demand a less lackluster answer from her, but let it pass.

L

Driving up, Charlie was nearly out of the buggy before it was stopped. She ran to greet Jelly, asking questions about the

new litter of kittens, who'd been left motherless.

"They're all underfoot," Jelly grumbled.

"But you tended to them?" Charlie persisted. "And they all ate alright?"

"I tended to them best as I was able to," Jelly said. "A body only has so much time in a day. Now you're home, you can take over."

Scott, intent on unhitching the buggy, reminded Charlie to take her books and lunch pail from the buggy seat.

Charlie went to grab her things, and then ran towards the house. After telling Maria about how the other children had enjoyed the churros, she took

the piece of bread and jam that Maria offered, and went to change to her overalls. Leaving her dress and petticoats on the floor in a heap, Charlie ran back outside. She did her required chores, and then went to snuggle the kittens.

It seemed to her hardly any time at all, and she was being summoned inside to wash for supper.

After supper, while the rest of the family sat, talking in the library, Charlie worked on her schoolwork. She sat at Murdoch's large desk, and Scott pulled

a chair up beside her, talking her thru the sums.

Thankfully they were finished without too much difficulty, and Charlie began to practice her spelling words.

Scott gave her back a pat, and went to sit beside Teresa on the sofa, telling Charlie to say when she was ready to be quizzed over

the words.

It took Charlie but a short few minutes and she was standing, bringing the sheet of prepared words, to hand off to Murdoch.

"Will you ask me the words?"

"Ready, then?" Murdoch asked her, and Charlie nodded.

And, surely enough, she was. Charlie spelled each word given, not making one error.

"Excellent, darling," Murdoch praised her. Charlie's face was lit with pride, as she took in Scott's approving smile, and

Johnny's easy grin.

"Finished with all your work?" Scott asked her.

"All except the reading. We're supposed to read at least five pages in the book." Charlie held up the brown volume.

"What is it?" Teresa asked, leaning forward.

"Hans Brinker. We all have to share the books. It's my night to borrow this one and read five pages. Then tomorrow someone else

gets to take it home and read five pages. At the end of the week, we all talk about what happened."

"I've read that one," Teresa said. "Remember, Murdoch, when I brought it home?"

"I remember," Murdoch said, smiling at Teresa.

"Is it good?" Charlie asked her.

"You read it, and you decide what you think," Teresa told her.

"Good answer," Scott said.

"Would you like to read aloud to all of us?" Murdoch asked Charlie. Charlie nodded. Knowing she was a competent reader, she found she

liked the idea of having the full attention of the entire family. Even if, for only the time it took her to read the required five pages.

As she read, the clock was striking eight o'clock. When she'd finished the fifth page, Charlie closed the book.

"I don't think I'm going to like it much," Charlie said.

"Give it a further chance before you decide that," Murdoch advised.

"Make certain you put that where you'll remember to take it with you in the morning," Scott told Charlie. "And then go up and get

ready for bed."

Charlie sighed. It seemed to her that she'd had hardly any time at all for the outdoor things at the ranch that she loved to do.

"Can I get a glass of milk?" she asked.

At Scott's look, she paused, and amended her request to, "May I get a glass of milk?"

"You can," Scott told her. "But make it quick."

Charlie went to get her glass of cold milk, and then trailed her way back to the library, telling Murdoch and Johnny goodnight.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, she washed her face and hands, and got into her nightgown. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, drinking

her milk, when Scott came in, carrying the book they'd been reading together. Black Beauty.

He opened the book, and read only a few pages before closing it again.

"That's all?" Charlie asked.

"For tonight, that's all."

"Aw," Charlie said, in protest.

"Time for bed," Scott said, and gave her leg a pat. "Under the quilt."

Charlie scrambled obediently under the quilt, and reached for his hand. "I saw two kids today from church. Those two boys with

red hair. And that boy that I gave the keys to that day-" Charlie let her voice trail off, her face getting warm in embarrassment, as she

remembered that day at Val's jail.

Scott let the moment pass. "So, more familiar faces than just Lucy, hmm?" he asked.

Grateful for him not remarking any further about the day that he'd given her that horrible spanking, Charlie nodded.

"Uh huh. None of the other kids are really my friend yet, or anything, though."

"Well, sometimes good friendships take awhile to grow," Scott told her.

"I'm really sleepy, all of a sudden," Charlie admitted.

Scott leaned down and kissed the center of her forehead.

7

Three more days of school passed by, before Saturday loomed happily on Charlie's horizon.

On Friday afternoon, Charlie could hardly contain her excitement. She and several of the other girls were talking about what

they'd planned for Saturday.

Excited also, because this was the first day that she'd been allowed to ride Gurth to school, unaccompanied by any of the adults

from Lancer. Gurth was spending his day safely at the stable on the edge of town, and Charlie was to walk there after school, collect him,

and head home.

She was doing that very thing, when she heard some hollering and jeering coming from the side of the café, near the alley.

She peeked in on her way past, and saw the two red headed boys from church tossing rocks with furious glee at the other end of the alley.

"What are you doing?" she asked them.

Both boys turned quickly, and the older one, Monte, spoke first.

"What's it to you?" he asked rudely.

Before Charlie could snap back at the boy, the other boy said, "There he is!" and tore off running down the alley.

The one that had spoken to Charlie stuck out his tongue at her and took after his brother.

Charlie went on then. going to the stable to fetch her horse, and saddle him. She was thanking the stable hand and leading Gurth

out of the stable when she saw the mysterious, shabby looking man walk past, heading swiftly out of town.

Charlie watched him go, curious. She mounted her horse, and was adjusting her feet in the stirrups when the two redheads

came speeding past on the run, and as Charlie watched, horrified, they each tossed several rocks in the man's direction. It was hard to

tell, but she didn't think any of the rocks hit the man, but they were close for certain.

Charlie urged Gurth forward, until the horse was right up upon the both boys.

"Stop that!" she said, in her most fierce voice.

The oldest boy, the one named Monte, gave a shove at Gurth.

"Mind your own business," he said.

"Why are you doing that to him?" Charlie demanded.

The younger brother took off his hat, and began to swat at Gurth with it, causing the horse to react in anxiety, stepping back and tossing his head.

"Here now!" came a yell, and the boys took off on a run as the stable hand came forward.

The man reached up and took Gurth's reins in hand. "Are you alright, miss?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm fine."

"You did a fine job controlling your horse just now."

"Gurth's a good horse," Charlie acknowledged. Then, "Why are they treating that man so mean?"

"Aw, they like to be up to mischief," the man said, with a dismissing hand wave.

Charlie thanked him, and said goodbye, riding on. She could see the man, fairly far in the distance now, heading towards the tar

paper shack. She wished she could follow and learn more, but since the ranch was in the opposite direction, she knew she'd best not.

They'd be watching for her at home, knowing just how long it would take her to ride home. If she was too long past that time,

they'd be worried. And, they might not let her ride alone come next week.

L


	8. Resolute

Sure enough, Teresa and Maria were both keeping a watchful eye out for Charlie when she got home. Teresa came out of the house

as Charlie was unsaddling Gurth.

"I thought it was time for you to be getting here," Teresa greeted her. "How was your day?"

"It was good."

"If you'd been any longer, I would have had to send out a search party," Teresa said.

"I'm not late," Charlie said, feeling indignant. "I came right home."

"I'm not saying that you didn't. It's just that Scott gave express orders that if you weren't here by the top of the hour, I was to

come and find him right away."

"Oh."

"Come in as soon as you're done. Maria has a special snack for you," Teresa said.

"Okay," Charlie agreed, and as she finished putting away her tack, and rubbing Gurth down after the ride from town, she thought

about what Teresa had said. Scott surely was concerned. Charlie wasn't sure just how she felt about that. It was nice, for the most part,

anyway, to know that she had folks that cared about her, and worried for her safety and all.

Still, she secretly hoped that Scott would ease up on his worry a bit. Otherwise, he would never allow her to do anything

on her own.

It was while she was finishing Gurth's rubdown, that Charlie saw the trickle of dried blood on the horse's chest.

Startled, she looked closer. It wasn't too bad, she didn't think. Just a cut, that had already stopped bleeding. But, how had it

happened?

She puzzled over that question as she cleaned the scratch gently.

Surely it hadn't happened at the stable. She'd helped to saddle Gurth there, and hadn't seen it. Surely she would have, if it had

been just freshly cut. Then, how? She heard a voice calling to her, and looked up to see Johnny coming towards her, walking in

from the pastures with some of the ranch hands. He waved, and Charlie waved back. She bit her lip, thinking, just as the possibility occurred

to her, that it might have been that red-headed menace of a boy that caused the scratch. When she'd ridden right up onto the boys, he

had waved his hands and shoved at Gurth. Maybe he'd had something in his hands at the time. Something sharp enough to make a cut.

Charlie felt her stomach knot. Should she say nothing about the cut, and try to tend to it herself? She didn't know much about such

things. Or should she tell Johnny about it, so that he could look it over, and she'd be certain that Gurth would have the best care?

Johnny would want to know what had happened, though. And, she didn't think-well, she knew for certain, that though Johnny might

understand why she'd ridden up onto those boys, he wouldn't like it much. And Scott definitely would not. He would be all serious-looking, and

he might even scold.

Johnny was nearly up onto her, and Charlie turned to face him.

"Hey, pequeno," he greeted her, with a grin.

"Hi."

"How was your first day riding in alone?" he asked.

Charlie wondered what to answer. She settled for a truth. "I liked it."

"Good. Turn your horse out, and let's head inside. I think Maria was making up somethin' special."

"Okay." And then, her love for her horse overrode her thoughts about keeping it to herself.

"Johnny?"

"What?" he asked, pausing to look at her.

"Gurth has a cut. I wanted you to look at it."

"Where?" Johnny asked, stepping back over to the horse.

"Here," Charlie said, and stood quietly as Johnny surveyed the cut. Washing it had caused it to begin to bleed again, though

only slightly. "Is it very deep?" she asked anxiously.

"No, not very." He raised his head, and ran his hand over Gurth's back soothingly. "We need to clean it, and put some salve on it. And

then keep an eye on it."

"I cleaned it," Charlie said, still feeling anxious. "I mean, well, I wiped it with some water and a cloth."

"Well, we'll do the salve then. Do you know where it is? On the shelf above the saddles? Run get it."

Charlie scurried to obey, running back with the jar of salve. She took the lid off when he instructed her to, wrinkling her nose

at the smell that assaulted her.

He took it and as he worked with gentle dedication, applying it, he said, "What happened?"

Ah, the question that she'd known was coming.

She hesitated. Long enough that Johnny looked up from his task.

"Huh?" he prompted.

"I saw it when I got home," Charlie said, leading into the story slowly.

So slowly that Johnny misunderstood.

"Did Dan say anything? About it happening at the stable today?" he asked.

"No."

"Well, it looks as though he would have noticed a cut like this," Johnny said, almost as though he was talking to himself. He ran

his hands over the cut again, smoothing the salve around.

Charlie knew that she needed to speak up. And quickly. And tell Johnny how she thought the cut had occurred.

But, by now, Johnny was frowning a bit. "I'd be disappointed in Dan if this happened today, and he didn't even take notice of

it."

And then, "I'll have a talk with him," Johnny said then. "Ask him about it."

"No, Johnny, don't do that," Charlie said swiftly.

"What?" he asked, looking down at her in confusion.

"Don't say anything to the man there. To Dan."

Johnny straightened to his full height. "What are you talkin' about?" he asked.

"I think it might have happened as I was leaving the stable. After I was already outside, and mounted, I mean."

"Is that right?" he asked.

"I think maybe so."

"How?"

Charlie hesitated, looking into those intense blue eyes. "There were these two boys, and they were throwing rocks at that old man. So,

I rode up onto them, and told them to stop. And, I think that one of them might have had something in his hand that cut Gurth."

For a long, long few moments, Johnny was silent. "What old man?" he asked, when he finally did speak.

"The man from the edge of town. The one with a glass eye."

"What did the kid have in his hand that would make a cut like that?"

"I don't know," Charlie admitted.

Johnny was silent again, studying Charlie with an intenseness that made her feel like squirming.

"What boys?" he asked, then.

Charlie hesitated. She'd rather not say. She'd rather take care of the stupid boys in her own way. If she told on them, then

it would just make life at school that much more complicated. Things were better between kids, when adults didn't mix in so much.

"Do I have to say?" she asked.

"Why wouldn't you wanna say?" Johnny demanded. "You want a kid to hurt your horse, and not get called out for it?"

"No. But, I want to take care of it myself."

She'd succeeded in surprising him with that comment. Charlie could see that, quite plainly.

"Take care of it yourself, huh?" he repeated, sounding as though he didn't quite believe her.

"Yes. I bet when you were a kid, and things happened, you didn't go tell an adult right off, did you? You took care of things on

your own."

She was correct. She saw that by his expression.

Before Charlie could congratulate herself on that correctness, however, Johnny leaned down until he was on eye level

with her.

"We're not talkin' about me, here, pequeno. If I did 'take care of things on my own', as you put it, it was because I didn't have

any other choices. There was no one to help me. Nobody to guide me, as to the right thing. It's not that way for you."

Eye to eye, there was silence for a few moments. Then, Johnny straightened back up.

"Turn your horse out for now. We'll keep a good eye on that cut this weekend, make sure it doesn't get infected. As far as

not wantin' to give names of the boys, you can take that up with Scott," he said.

Ugh.

L

Charlie thought and worried over that last bit of Johnny's comment as she turned Gurth out into the pasture with the

other horses. She went into the house, to the kitchen, where she washed her hands, and Maria greeted her with a smile, and

a plate of chocolate chip bars.

The bars were really tasty. Any other time, Charlie would have been able to finish them all off, no problem at all. Today, though,

her stomach was a little knotted at the thought of talking to Scott. She gave Maria a hug around her waist, and went upstairs to

change to her play clothes. After that, she went outside to do her chores, and then went to check on the kittens.

Charlie stayed there, beside the barn, playing with the kittens until she heard a familiar whistle. And then her name

being called.

Charlie got to her feet, and stepped around the corner of the barn, still holding her favorite kitten.

"Hey, there," Scott greeted her with a smile.

"Hi."

"How was your day?" Scott asked then, running a hand over her hair. Charlie could tell then, that Johnny either hadn't seen Scott

yet, or had seen him and chosen not to say anything yet about the boys.

"School was good," Charlie said, in honesty. "I got one hundred percent on my spelling test."

"Of course you did," Scott said, smiling again. "And how was riding to and from by yourself? Alright?"

"I liked it," Charlie said, again carefully only answering the question itself.

"Good," Scott said, sounding pleased.

As Scott seemed ready to take his leave, Charlie's thoughts moved into fast drive. If she didn't say anything now, right now, then

Johnny was sure to bring it up at the supper table, or in the library later on. And then Scott would wonder why she hadn't told him

when she had the opportunity to do so. It would look sneaky on her part.

So, she added quickly, "There was just one thing that happened, that wasn't so good."

"What was that?" Scott asked.

Charlie took a moment, to set the kitten onto the ground. "Gurth got a cut. On his chest. Johnny looked at it, though, and

he put some salve on it. He says we just need to watch it for a couple of days."

"How did that happen?" Scott asked.

"Well," Charlie said, hesitating again.

"Charlie, you didn't shortcut thru fences that you weren't supposed to, did you?" Scott asked, his forehead lined with concern.

"No!" Charlie said quickly. He was jumping to all sorts of the wrong conclusions! "I stayed right on the road, just like you told me to!"

"Alright, then, what happened?"

"There were these boys, and they were throwing rocks at that old man-the one that has the glass eye-and I rode Gurth up

to them, and told them to stop. And they were waving their hands around, and I think one of them might have cut Gurth with

something."

"Where did this happen at?" Scott asked, with a frown.

"Outside of the stable."

"Who are the boys?"

Charlie licked her lips. "Boys from school," she said vaguely.

"I assumed that. What boys?"

When Charlie hesitated yet again, Scott said, "Charlie?" in a tone that was conveyed his growing impatience.

"I'd rather not say," Charlie said, trying to sound resolute.

"I didn't ask that," Scott replied, his eyes not leaving her face. "I asked who they were."

"I don't want to say," Charlie said, feeling stubborn. "If I tell you, then you'll tell their father or whoever, and then

school will be just awful. They'll call me a tattle-tale."

"Those boys need to have consequences, Charlie, for what they did." Scott's tone was firm.

"I know. I'll get even with them."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Scott asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not sure yet," Charlie admitted. She didn't feel so very confident at the moment, with Scott looking at her

the way that he was.

Scott leaned down, similar to the way that Johnny had earlier. "That's not how it's going to go," he said, in such

a stern tone that Charlie felt her stomach wobble a bit.

"You can keep their names to yourself until supper's over, if that's what you want. But, once we've eaten, and you've

had your bath, you're going to tell me. Understood?"

Charlie wanted to protest, to say that she wouldn't do any such thing, but found she just couldn't. Not at that moment,

anyway.

She gave a brief nod of her head in answer.

L


	9. Faith and chocolate cake

After that, Scott went on his way, back to whatever work was needing his attention at the moment. Charlie returned to

cuddling the kittens again, but even stroking their soft fur didn't raise her spirits much.

She considered things as she sat there. Scott meant business, there was no doubt about that at all. Charlie felt

her stomach knot up at the thought of his expression and tone earlier. She hated it when Scott was upset with her

about something. It didn't happen often, at least. But, when it did, well, she just absolutely hated it!

For a bit, she pouted, feeling that Scott was being unreasonable. Why should he have to know who the boys were? If the situation

were left to her, Charlie imagined how she might get even with them. If she were in Stockton, then the way she would have

done it-well, it might be quite different than what she could do here. There, she could have done any number of sneaky pranks

on boys like this, and no body would have been the wiser for it. Or, at least nobody would have cared what she did.

Here, though, that was different indeed. There, there was only Katherine, who didn't give a hoot. Here, there were

at least five adults who would care, and concern themselves all about whatever she got up to.

The supper bell began to clang loudly across the yard, and Charlie got to her feet, dusting off her hands. She met

up with Johnny, as they reached the house near the same time.

"How goes it, pequeno?" he asked, with a bit of a grin at the corner of his mouth.

Charlie shrugged. "Not so good."

"How come?" he asked.

Charlie gave him a silent look, and Johnny surmised, "Scott, huh?"

Charlie nodded. "He says I have to tell him the names of the boys."

"Well, in this case, I'm not gonna be able to back you up, kiddo. I happen to agree with Scott."

Charlie sighed heavily. "Now the weekend's ruined."

"No, it's not. Doesn't have to be ruined. It's all in your attitude," Johnny told her. "You tell Scott what he wants to know, and that's

the end of it."

"Then he'll tell their father, though. Right?"

"Likely, yeah."

Charlie sighed again, dramatically, and Johnny put a hand at the back of her head, steering her into the house.

L

Supper was catfish, prepared in Maria's special way, with noodles and an array of vegetables and fruit.

Charlie was mostly quiet during the meal. She was still thinking. And pouting.

"Maria made chocolate cake," Teresa announced.

"Any of those chocolate chip bars left?" Johnny asked.

"I'm sure she tucked some away for you," Teresa told him.

"How about that, pequeno?" Johnny asked. "You going to share your bars with me?"

"You can have the rest," Charlie said, in a subdued tone, and the adults at the table exchanged glances.

"I'll go get the cake," Teresa said, and got up to go to the kitchen.

Charlie was pushing her carrots around her plate with her fork, absently, as if she didn't even realize she was doing it.

Johnny gave her a nudge. "Finish that up, so you can have cake," he said, still trying to tease her out of her mood.

"I don't even want cake, I don't think," Charlie returned. "It doesn't sound good right now."

As Johnny would have said more, Scott intervened. "If you don't want cake, then you don't have to have any," he said to her.

Charlie looked up to meet his eyes across the table, surprised. He sounded so abrupt.

"If you're finished, you can take your plate to the kitchen," Scott said, then.

For a moment, Charlie held his gaze, and then she looked away, and stood up, taking her plate and

leaving the room.

"Whoo weee," Johnny said, with a whistle, after she'd gone.

"It's not like her to turn down dessert," Murdoch said.

"She's just in a mood," Scott said, as Teresa was returning, carrying a tray with chocolate cake on plates.

As Teresa was passing the plates of dessert around the table, Charlie appeared at the doorway again.

"Maria says to wait until later for my bath. She has to heat the water," she said. "May I go to my room, and read?"

Scott nodded at her. "Go on."

So, Charlie went. As she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she began to think about leaving so quickly.

She curled up on her window seat, and tried to read on 'Little Men'. The longer she sat there, the more she thought

about that chocolate cake. Maria's cake was the best. Moist. And Maria was generous with her frosting, too. She didn't scrimp

on it. Since it had been her own decision to forgo the cake, Charlie had only herself to blame. She began to regret

that decision, made out of her own stubbornness. She truly did love Maria's chocolate cake.

She thought about everybody, probably in the library by now, and talking. And Johnny, most likely on his second

piece of the cake.

Charlie gave up trying to read, and sat, looking out the window. The sun was turning orange.

There was a tap, a light one, on the half-open door. Charlie looked, and sat up very straight as Scott

came in. He had 'Black Beauty' tucked under one arm, a glass of milk in one hand, and a plate in the other hand. On the

plate there was a generous piece of chocolate cake.

Scott came over to the window seat, and set the milk and book on the desk, and then sat down beside Charlie.

He held out the plate of cake to her. "I thought you might be wishing for some cake by now," he said, quietly.

For a long moment, Charlie felt as though it was hard to swallow. There was such a lump in her throat. She took

the plate, and managed a very soft, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

And, just like that, Charlie felt suddenly sorry for being so stubborn. He'd brought her cake, even though she

hadn't been very nice.

"I'll tell you the names of the boys," Charlie offered, and Scott nodded.

"Alright," he said.

"Do you want me to tell you, before I eat the cake?" Charlie asked him then, and Scott had to hide his smile.

"No. You can go on and eat first."

"Okay," Charlie said, and took her first bite.

"While you eat, I'm going to talk to you, though, alright?"

Charlie nodded, feeling a bit of trepidation at his words.

"I want you to understand something. About why I want to know their names. This was a fairly serious issue, and

it needs adults to tend to it. It's not your place, or your responsibility to take care of it. If they were throwing rocks, then

that's probably what gave your horse his cut. It could have been a lot worse than it is."

Charlie ate her cake, watching Scott while she did so.

"He might not have intended to injure Gurth. But, still, it's something that should be addressed. If it's not, then

what's to say it wouldn't happen again? And, this situation happened because they were throwing rocks at

an older man. And, you took offense at that? You didn't like it, right?" he asked.

"Right," Charlie said.

"And they need to be held accountable for that. It's wrong, and it was cruel."

Charlie nodded again. For a few minutes there was quiet in the room, as she finished her cake.

"Finished?" he asked, and Charlie handed off the now-empty plate to him, and he set it to his right on the desk.

When he turned back towards her, his expression was grave. "Ready to tell me now?" he asked.

Charlie bit at her lower lip, and said, "It's the boys from church. The ones with the red hair. Monte. And John."

Scott looked considering. "Bart Johnson's boys," he said.

"Are you going to tell him? Mr. Johnson?" Charlie asked, looking anxious. She already knew the answer.

"I am."

Charlie sighed, not even realizing that she did so.

There was a tap at the door, and Teresa popped her head in. "The water's heated for your bath, Charlie."

"Thanks, Teresa," Scott said, and Teresa nodded, and was gone again.

"Go on and have your bath," Scott said. "I'll come back up when you're finished, and we'll do our reading. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, and stood up. She hesitated, and turned back to Scott. She was silent, just looking at him out

of those big brown eyes.

Understanding, Scott reached out and tugged her a bit closer. "I know it's hard. Letting go of doing things your own way. Having

to conform to more rules. And it's not fun, thinking of those boys and what they might say to you when their father finds out."

He reached out and brushed a strand of her hair back from her face. "All I can say to you to is, it's going to take trust on your part.

Faith in me, that I know what I'm doing, and that I can take care of you. Do you trust me, Charlie?"

Tears appeared in her eyes. "I trust you, Scott. More than anybody!" She flung her arms around his neck, and

he wrapped her in a hug.

L


	10. Church yard parlay

Charlie spent her Saturday riding her horse, and helping Maria in the kitchen. In between those things, she played with the barn kittens, and

helped Johnny tend to Gurth's chest cut.

She felt mostly happy, and not too worried about the mean red-headed brothers. If they got into trouble with their father, well, that was their

own fault, wasn't it? Happy as she was on that Saturday, enjoying her freedom in the sunshine, Charlie couldn't feel too worried about

anything. Even if the boys were mad at Charlie for tattling on them, she thought she could handle them.

Charlie kept those good, positive feelings right up until church services the next morning. Sandwiched in between Murdoch

and Teresa, she let her thoughts wander, and then her eyes, as well. Charlie found she liked looking at the stained glass all around.

She was doing that very thing, looking all about, when she saw the two brothers, sitting to the left, across the church aisle.

They weren't directly over from the Lancer church pew, but across and back one, so Charlie had to turn her head just a bit.

The younger one, John, stuck out his tongue at Charlie. Charlie didn't fancy having Murdoch see her return the same to the boy, so

she settled for giving him a glare full of distain.

After that, Charlie tried to stare straight ahead, and keep her eyes from returning to Monte and John. That was more difficult than

it seemed, however. She kept swinging her eyes back to the boys.

Standing, and sharing the hymn song book with Teresa, Charlie felt Teresa give her a nudge in the ribs. She swung her gaze up to

Teresa, and received a forehead-knitted frown, and a brief nod towards the song book.

When the worship service was over, and folks began filing out of the church building, Teresa said, "What did you keep looking at?"

She said it quietly, and Charlie answered just as quietly. "Those horrible boys-one of them kept making faces at me."

"Oh. Well, they won't be so full of vinegar once Scott talks to their father about what they did," Teresa said.

That made Charlie's nerves begin to jump again.

By the time she and Teresa had worked their way thru the throng of church-goers, they saw Scott already in conversation with a

man, over to one side of the church.

"Is that Monte's father?" Charlie asked Teresa.

Teresa looked, and then said, "It is."

"Come on," Teresa said, and Charlie followed her, reluctantly. She would have preferred standing and watching the

ongoing conversation. And possibly, even listening, if she could have gotten close enough.

She was standing with Teresa, under the shade of one of the trees, while Teresa talked with a couple of her friends.

"Monte! John!" came a hollering voice. The two boys, who'd been scuffling with some of their own friends, looked

towards their father, and he beckoned with his hand.

The boys ran towards their father, and Charlie turned completely around to look, not even caring if she was seen doing so.

Feeling nervous, but yet a bit glad at the same time, that the boys were going to get what was coming to them, she watched

with interest. She felt the interest thru the continued conversation, while the boys' father talked to them, looking serious. There

was a lot of hand flapping on the boys' part, and many head shakes.

And then.

"Charlie!" Scott called across the church yard. And then, Scott was beckoning to her, as well.

The interest and satisfaction faded away. Charlie felt only nerves as she walked over to the group. She went to

stand beside Scott, and felt his hand go to her waist. Both boys were still looking to be 'full of vinegar', as Teresa had said.

Monte was looking especially satisfied, a smirk on his face. As if he knew something that Charlie didn't.

Feeling pricklings of misgiving, Charlie looked up at Scott, and Charlie could see that he was tense.

But the other man spoke to Charlie first. Quickly.

"Scott says you had a run-in with my boys," Mr. Johnson said.

Charlie nodded, and tried to meet his eye. "Yes, sir."

"And in the process of that run-in, your horse was hurt?" he asked. Though more of a demand, Charlie thought.

She nodded again, and looked at Scott.

"The boys say you ran your horse right up on top of them," Scott said. His voice was quiet. Steady. But Charlie heard the

unspoken question behind his words.

"She did!" Monte declared. "I thought she was gonna ride right over us!"

"I was not!" Charlie declared hotly, glaring at Monte. "I just wanted you to stop throwing rocks-"

"It was only at old Wolfie, Pa, just like I told ya!" Monte said, his voice rising over Charlie's.

"I know, boy. Never mind that now," Mr. Johnson said.

Charlie couldn't believe it. It sounded as though Mr. Johnson thought nothing of his sons tormenting an old man.

"They were chasing him, and throwing rocks at him," Charlie began.

"That's been discussed already, young lady," Mr. Johnson said. "Now, we're talking about what happened with your

horse."

Charlie opened her mouth to say that Monte had hurt Gurth with one of the rocks he'd had in his hand, or something, but

Scott pressed on her waist, and Charlie looked up at him.

"Did you ride up nearly onto the boys?" Scott asked. "Charge at them with Gurth?"

Charge? Charlie felt her face flame hot.

"No!" Charlie denied.

"She did, and that's why her horse got cut! I put out my hand to keep her from tramplin' me!" Monte said.

"I wasn't going to trample you," Charlie said, with spirit, but the knot in her stomach began to hurt.

"Says you!" Monte jeered.

"Hush, boy," Mr. Johnson said, reaching out to cuff Monte's ear.

Scott was still looking at her, intently. "Charlie?" he asked.

"I didn't charge at them! They were waving their hands around, slapping at Gurth."

"You practically ran us over!" John accused.

"I was close to you-but I wasn't running you over," Charlie returned. "And I didn't charge at you!" She swung her eyes to Scott.

"Alright," Scott said. He looked calm. And steady. And believing.

"That's a lie!" Monte shouted.

"If Charlie says she didn't charge at the boys, then she didn't," Scott said, his tone even.

Charlie felt a quick rush of pride at his belief of her word. Just before Monte said, "She did, though!"

"I said to hush, boy. Get on to the wagon," Mr. Johnson ordered.

Monte went, plainly unhappy, and that left John, who took over glaring at Charlie.

"It seems like we have a standoff here, Scott," Mr. Johnson said. "I say, kids will be kids. I reckon this is just a case of a squabble

amongst young'uns."

Scott didn't deny, or confirm that. He said, "I wanted you to be aware of what happened."

"Sure thing. My boys won't be tossing any more rocks." He clapped Scott on the shoulder, and then walked off to his

own wagon, John trailing along behind him.

Left there, with Scott, Charlie was quiet for a few moments, as was Scott. There were only a few folks left about now, since most

had departed with their families. Murdoch and Teresa were already in the buggy, Charlie could see.

"They aren't even going to be in any trouble," Charlie said, very quietly. "Their father just-" she hesitated. "He just acted as

though it was nothing!"

"Come on," Scott said, and began to walk across the church yard. At the buggy, Scott paused.

"Everything alright?" Murdoch asked, his forehead lined with concern.

Scott gave a brief nod. "See you at home," he said, and turned to Charlie. "Are you riding with Murdoch or with me?" he asked.

"With you," Charlie said, feeling subdued.

She followed Scott to his horse, and after he'd mounted, he put a hand down to her. Charlie took it, and he swung her up behind

him.

A couple of older women, just now coming out of the church, waved, and Scott waved back.

"I believe their father takes it more seriously than you think he does," Scott said, after they'd ridden for a few minutes in

silence.

Charlie gave a 'hmm' sort of sound.

"They shouldn't throw rocks at that man," she said.

"No. They shouldn't throw rocks at anyone," Scott said.

"They're bullies," Charlie said vehemently.

Scott didn't say anything then, and Charlie pressed her cheek against his back.

"Thank you," she said then, very softly.

"For what?"

"For defending me the way you did. For believing me."

In response, Scott gave the hand she had wrapped around his waist a pat with his own.

"I mean it, though, Scott. Katherine never would have believed me, or defended me that way-"

"It's alright, Charlie."

After a few more minutes of peaceful riding, Charlie spoke up.

"I didn't charge at them,"

Confused, Scott turned a bit in the saddle to look at her. "I thought we'd already settled that you hadn't," he said.

"Yes. But-" she let her voice trail off.

"But, what?" he prompted.

"I did ride up-really close to them," Charlie said, sounding hesitant.

Scott turned to face forward once again. And was quiet.

"I wasn't going to trample them," Charlie went on. "I just wanted them to stop throwing the rocks."

"What is it you're trying to say, Charlie?"

"That-" she paused. "That maybe I shouldn't have ridden so close to them. Maybe Gurth wouldn't have gotten cut if

I hadn't."

Scott was quiet again, for several long moments, and Charlie felt her stomach began to do the flops and flips it did when she

was feeling unsure.

"Are you sorry?" she asked. "That you stood up for me?"

"Of course I'm not."

Charlie tightened her arms around his waist, as he went on. "You reacted too quickly, probably, and you shouldn't have tried to deal

with them by yourself like you did. But-" he paused.

"But, what?" Charlie asked.

"But, I'm not certain that I wouldn't have done just the same at your age."

Charlie gave him a grateful squeeze. Feeling as though things were right in her world, at that moment, anyway, she said, "Could we go

fishing this afternoon?"

L


	11. The reddest of the red

When the two boys only gave Charlie glares the next day at school, she began to worry less. Maybe they had gotten punished, after all. And,

maybe their father had told them not to say anything more to Charlie about the whole thing.

At lunch Charlie sat with her group of new friends outside. Lucy, of course, was among them. And Carolyn, Caro for short, and Rebecca. After

some talking, Charlie discovered that the boy whom she'd handed the keys off to at the jail that day, was Rebecca's brother.

His name was Jason , and Charlie thought he was ever so nice. Rebecca agreed that he wasn't too bad, for a brother. An afternoon of fishing was

planned for that day, and several of the kids were going, including and Rebecca.

Charlie wished she could go. It seemed as though these were the sort of kids that Scott and Teresa and the rest of the family wanted her

to get acquainted with. When Rebecca invited her, Charlie hated to refuse.

"I couldn't," Charlie said, in honesty. "Not without letting somebody at home know where I'd be. They'd worry if I wasn't home at the

usual time."

"Aw, well, sure. I understand. My Ma gets worried 'bout me, too," Rebecca said.

"Maybe I can go the next time," Charlie said, hopefully.

"Well, we can go again tomorrow," Rebecca said. "Can't we?" she called to her brother, who was standing with some of the other

boys.

Jason pushed the hat he was wearing back a bit. "Sure," he agreed, easily.

The rest of the afternoon, Charlie was so excited, she had to really concentrate to hear any of the lessons.

She rode home atop Gurth, still feeling happy. Things really were happening to the good here. She had a wonderful home at Lancer, and

lots of folks that loved and cared for her. And now she was making friends. Real friends. Not like the kids in Stockton who she'd

never felt close to.

These kids were just regular kids. They did regular kid things, like go fishing. They weren't trying to snitch things from the

stores, or bust up shop windows.

Once at home, she stopped in front of the corral, sliding down from Gurth. She caught sight of Cip in the pasture, and returned the

wave he sent to her. She'd loosened the cinch, and was intent on lowering the saddle, when Jelly appeared.

"'Bout time you was gettin' home," he grumbled in greeting.

Charlie had come to realize that Jelly was just naturally gruff. He didn't mean anything by it. And, she found that she quite liked

the older man. Sometimes she would sit, and he would tell her stories.

"Hullo, Jelly," Charlie said.

"Hullo yourself. Here. Let me do that," he said, and took the saddle from her, toting it towards the tack shed.

"Where's Scott? Do you know?" she asked.

"Haven't seen him since this mornin'. Don't think he'll be back till suppertime."

"Oh," Charlie said, disappointed. She wanted so badly to talk to Scott about going the next afternoon, with the other kids.

She turned Gurth out into the pasture with the other horses, and went inside. A glass of milk and a plate of three cookies

sat on the scarred wooden table in the kitchen. Maria turned from where she was kneading a loaf of bread.

"Tenga su merienda," Maria said, gesturing to the table.

"Si," Charlie said, and then gestured at her dress. "I'll go and change first."

Maria nodded in approval, and Charlie went up the stairs to her bedroom. She changed quickly, and left her dress and stockings on the floor,

in a muddled pile. Dressed again in denim overalls and her feet bare, Charlie went back down.

She sat at the table, drinking her milk and eating her cookies. And talking all the while to Maria about school, and her

new friends. And about the invitation to go fishing the next afternoon.

"Do you think Scott will let me go?" Charlie asked.

"Deles pregutar y ver," Maria answered. ( _Y_ ou _must ask, and see)_

When she was finished eating, Charlie put her plate in the sink, and went outside. She did her chores, feeding the chickens, and then

went to check on the barn kittens.

She kept a good watch, but none of the Lancer menfolk arrived home anytime near before supper. Teresa did, however, driving up

in the buggy, and calling out to Charlie to come and help her carry her packages.

"I was so worried I was going to be late getting home," she said, stacking Charlie's arms full of boxes. "But,, it looks like I still made it

in time. Murdoch's not back, is he?"

"No. I haven't seen him," Charlie said.

"Good," Teresa said, picking up her own armload of packages.

"What is all this?" Charlie asked, following behind as Teresa headed towards the house.

"Just a few things I needed from the store," Teresa said, sounding breezy.

"A few things?" Charlie echoed, doubtfully.

"Never mind that. I got you something, too," Teresa said.

"What?"

"You'll see," Teresa said, managing to make it sound mysterious.

Once at the top of the stairs, Teresa made her way to her own bedroom, where she deposited the packages onto her bed.

Charlie did the same, unceremoniously dumping those she'd been carrying onto the top of the others.

"Do you want to see what I got you?" Teresa asked.

"I guess," Charlie said. She had the definite impression that Teresa had gotten her something along the lines of clothing.

Teresa sifted thru the boxes on the bed, and pulled two of them out. "Here," she said.

Charlie lifted the top off the first box, and found a brush and comb set. They were made of tortoiseshell, and they were truly

beautiful.

"They're pretty," Charlie said, surprised a bit, and glad that it was something she could be truly happy about receiving.

"I thought it was time you had a new hairbrush," Teresa said. "Do you like them?"

"Yes. I really do. Thank you, Teresa."

"Now, open this one," Teresa said, handing Charlie the second package.

Charlie took it, gauging the weight of it. Maybe it was that new book she'd been wanting. 'Little Women'. She'd been pointing it out to

Murdoch or Teresa or Scott, or whomever she happened to be in the mercantile with.

It didn't feel as though it was heavy enough to contain a book. Still, a person could always hope, couldn't they?

Alas, it wasn't a book at all. Charlie took in the contents of the box, feeling utterly, horribly disappointed.

"What do you think?" Teresa prompted, tapping the box.

"I was hoping it was a book," Charlie said.

"Oh, silly," Teresa said, not sounding offended. As yet.

Charlie set the box back on the bed.

"Take it out and look at it," Teresa said, and when Charlie just stood there, not doing anything, Teresa reached down and picked up

the dress. The extremely frilly dress. Complete with an overage of lace and ruffles, and what looked like a million buttons down the back. And, it

was in the most awful shade of red.

Teresa shook the dress out, and held it up. "Well?" she asked again. "I know it's a little more frilly than you generally like, but-"

"A little more?" Charlie asked, accentuating the word 'little'.

"Alright. A lot more," Teresa conceded. "But, it's pretty, don't you think?"

"No."

"What?" Teresa asked, looking startled.

"I said, no, it's not pretty. It's the ugliest dress I've ever seen."

Now, Teresa was staring at her, her eyes wide in surprise. "It's a beautiful color," she insisted.

"It's too red."

"Too red? What in the world does that mean?" Teresa asked,

"I'd look like a giant tomato."

"You would not."

"I would," Charlie insisted stubbornly. "I won't wear it."

Teresa put the dress back into the box, her cheeks flushed. "I'll return it," she said shortly.

"I didn't ask you to buy it," Charlie said. She hated that look on Teresa's face. As if she were bitterly disappointed.

"No, you sure didn't," Teresa said.

"So you shouldn't get angry at me just because I don't like it-" Charlie began.

Teresa whirled on Charlie. "For heaven's sake, Charlie, I'm not upset with you because you don't like it. I'm upset with you because you're

being incredibly rude."

"You bought me the brush and comb set because you knew I'd like them!" Charlie burst out. "And then, you thought you could spring

that tomato costume on me!"

"That's enough!" Teresa snapped.

"What's the trouble?" came a male voice from the open doorway. And, there stood Murdoch.

Teresa looked disconcerted, and Charlie was astute enough to know that Teresa would rather Murdoch not have heard

the quarrel. She wasn't very pleased about it herself. She knew Teresa didn't want to disappoint Murdoch, and neither did she.

"It's-" Teresa hesitated. "It's of no great importance, Murdoch."

Charlie found that she'd been holding her breath, waiting to hear what Teresa told him. One look at the older man, and she saw

that Murdoch was not believing any of Teresa's statement.

"It seemed as though it was of importance," he said, mildly.

"No," Teresa said, and went to wrap her arms around Murdoch. "I'd better get downstairs and help Maria get

supper on the table. Excuse me."

And, then, she was gone.

Which left Charlie there, standing in Teresa's bedroom, with the results of Teresa's shopping excursion spread all about the room.

She tried to meet Murdoch's eye, but found she was focusing on his right shoulder instead.

"What's this about a tomato costume?" Murdoch asked.

Charlie swept her eyes up to his, and then returned her gaze to his shoulder again.

"Teresa and I-we were disagreeing about something," Charlie said.

Murdoch left his spot by the door, and walked on further into the room, crossing over to the bed, where he stood,

looking at the packages. He reached down, and ran a hand over the vivid red dress, and then looked at Charlie again.

"Is this the source of the disagreement?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I see," he said, quietly.

A glance upwards at his face, and Charlie thought she saw disappointment there.

"Not you, too, Murdoch," Charlie said, without thinking.

"And what does that mean, exactly?" he asked.

"Nothing," Charlie said, her eyes returning to his shoulder.

"I don't think that comment means nothing."

Suddenly, Charlie felt as though she were going to snap.

"Can I go?" she asked. "I need to set the table for Maria."

"Charlie-" Murdoch began.

"You let Teresa go," Charlie said, thinking that she was going to burst into tears if she didn't leave immediately.

To her surprise, Murdoch said, "Alright. Go on and set the table."

Charlie made her escape, tearing past him, and down the stairs.

Instead of going to do her chore of setting the table, however, Charlie went back out to the barn. She took two of

the kittens and went up the ladder to the loft in the barn.

She sat, cuddling the kittens, until she heard familiar voices, just below. Scooting over to the loft door, she saw

Johnny there, talking with Jelly. At one point, Johnny looked upward, and saw her sitting there.

He grinned, and then once finished talking to Jelly, he turned to look up again, putting his hands on his hips.

"Hey, pequeno," he greeted her.

"Hi."

"What are you doin' up there? Isn't it about time for supper?"

"It's about time."

"Well, come on down."

"Where's Scott?" Charlie asked.

"I dunno. Out and about somewheres. Why? You waitin' for him?"

"I guess."

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck. "It's makin' my neck hurt, lookin' up at you like that. Come on down."

Charlie sighed, and went to the ladder, climbing down with one kitten in her hand, and one on her shoulder. Johnny was

waiting at the bottom of the ladder. He took the kitten from her shoulder, and set it on the barn floor.

"I'm hungrier than a bear who hasn't eaten all winter," Johnny said.

Charlie set the kitten in her hand down, to join the others.

"How did it go today with the red-headed hooligans?" he asked. "They give you any trouble?"

"No."

"Well, that's good, then."

As they walked toward the house together, Johnny gave her a perceptive look. "If it's not that, then what's botherin' you?"

Charlie swept her big eyes up to his blue ones.

Before Charlie could decide how to answer, the door near the kitchen opened, and Teresa stepped out. Long enough

to say, "Supper's nearly ready. Maria says to come in and get washed up."

"Scott home?" Johnny asked.

"He had a meeting or something, Murdoch said," Teresa answered, and went back inside.

Once she and Johnny were inside, Charlie found herself on the receiving end of a scolding from Maria.

"Usted sabe que su trabajo," Maria scolded, gesturing to the stack of plates. _(You know your job)_

Charlie felt her face get hot in embarrassment. She looked away from Maria's disapproval, and went to wash her

hands. Once finished, she took the stack of plates, and headed to the dining room to set the table. She risked a look at Teresa as she

passed, but Teresa was intent on her own task and seemed not to be taking notice of Charlie at all.

In the dining room, Charlie was going around the table, setting a plate at each chair, when Johnny came in, carrying

a large pitcher of lemonade, which he set in the middle of the table.

"What goes on?" he asked. "Maria seems riled up at you."

"Oh, well," Charlie said, trying to sound breezy and unconcerned. "She might as well be like everyone else around here that is."

Johnny paused, looking at her puzzled. "Others around here upset with you, are they?"

Charlie shrugged, and kept on, laying the plates, and avoiding his eye.

When she'd reached the side of the table where he was standing, Charlie began to step around Johnny, but he stopped her

with a light tug on her braid. "I'm not upset with ya, pequeno," he said, and when Charlie swung her glance up to his, she saw that

his eyes were sparkling in teasing.

"You will be," Charlie said.

"Maybe not. Try me," Johnny said.

Charlie bit at her bottom lip for a moment, and then said, "Teresa bought me a dress."

When that was all she said, Johnny's forehead furrowed in question. "Uh huh?" he prompted.

"And I told her it was horrible, and ugly and that I wouldn't wear it."

"Mmm," Johnny said, in response.

"And then Murdoch heard us arguing, and he wanted to know about it, and Teresa left, and then he had this disappointed look

on his face," Charlie said, her words in a rush.

"Well-" Johnny began.

"I know he's disappointed in me, because I won't wear it, and I don't think that Teresa should try to make me into somebody that

I'm not!"

When she'd finished, Johnny was still a moment, and then said, "Whew! You are wound up."

"Well, I'm not gonna wear it," Charlie said, stubbornly, and stepped around him to set down the last plate.

"What did Teresa say? When you said you wouldn't wear it?" Johnny asked.

"She said-that she would return it, and that I was being rude."

"Well, there you go. She plans to return the dress, and so you won't have to wear it. "

"Yes, but-"

"And I'm nearly certain that Teresa's not tryin' to make you into anybody but yourself. She wouldn't do that."

"Well, why would she buy me such a stupid dress, then?" Charlie demanded, feeling all wrought up again. "When she knows it's

not the sort that I want to wear?"

"I don't know, pequeno. Maybe she was just tryin' to do somethin' nice for ya," Johnny said.

When Charlie was quiet, he tugged her braid again. "Don't ya think that might be it?" he asked.

As she was again quiet, Johnny leaned down until he was on eye level with Charlie. "Teresa does a lot for you, doesn't she?"

Charlie nodded in response, somberly.

"Well, you ought to remember those things that she does for ya. She might have bought you a dress that's not your style, but

that shouldn't cancel out all the other nice things. Should it?"

Charlie shook her head. "No, Johnny."

"Do you think you hurt her feelins'?" he asked then.

"I'm fairly sure that I did," she admitted.

"Well, you apologize to her. Tell her you're sorry that you didn't choose your words more carefully. Things will be fixed up

between the two of you then," he predicted.

Charlie bit at her lip again, and then gave another nod.

Voices were coming toward the dining room, then, a sign that they were about to be interrupted.

"Right after supper, you talk to her," Johnny said, softly. "Alright?"

"Yes. Alright."

L


	12. Interactions

Charlie was quiet at the supper table. Scott's chair remained empty, with no arrival from him as the meal continued. Charlie wished

he was sitting there, across from her, though he'd probably be all serious looking and disapproving once he'd found out about her

to-do with Teresa.

Even so, she wished he would come walking in. It just didn't feel right at the table, without him there.

Mostly, Johnny and Murdoch conversed, with an occasional comment from Teresa. But, Teresa was quieter than usual, too.

When Charlie risked a look at her, she thought that Teresa's expression was somber, but not angry appearing.

She sighed, pushing the peas around on her plate, trying to think how to best approach Teresa with an apology.

"Pequeno," Johnny spoke softly, and Charlie looked up.

"Murdoch's talkin' to you," Johnny said, and Charlie looked down the table at Murdoch.

"I didn't hear what you said," Charlie told him.

"Your thoughts are somewhere else, hmm?" Murdoch asked, and Charlie felt her face get warm with embarrassment. Murdoch knew

very well where her thoughts had been. On Teresa. On their argument. On the fact that Murdoch had overheard bits of it.

"Yes, sir," Charlie said.

"I asked about the two boys. And if they gave you any problems today?" Murdoch repeated.

Charlie shook her head. "No. they didn't."

"Well, that's good," Murdoch said. "Hopefully the situation is resolved."

"Hopefully their father gave them a paddling," Teresa spoke up.

Charlie swept her gaze to Teresa, feeling a sudden sympatico with the older girl. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to apologize to

Teresa after all. If Teresa thought that Monte and John should be punished for what they'd done, that must mean she wasn't mad

at Charlie for the red dress fiasco. That warm feeling lasted only a moment, though. For with Teresa's next words,

it went away.

"That's the best way to deal with rude children who don't know how to behave themselves," Teresa said vehemently.

Charlie felt her face flame even more. Teresa meant that for her, for Charlie. Charlie just knew it. Teresa had said she

was rude. So, therefore, Teresa must be saying that she thought Charlie ought to be paddled!

"Strong words, my darling," Murdoch told her, his tone mild.

"Yeah, hermanita," Johnny said, with a grin at Teresa. "You sound as though you'd like to do the job yourself on the

red-headed fiends."

"Maybe I would," Teresa said, with a snap to her voice.

Murdoch was talking now. Something about how a good spanking had its proper place, if done correctly, and for the

right reasons.

Charlie pushed her plate away, a bit too forcefully. The side of her plate hit her water glass with a clink.

All eyes turned to her in question.

"Sorry," Charlie said, in nearly only a mutter.

As they all continued eating, Charlie couldn't make herself swallow any more food.

"May I be excused?" she said, looking towards Johnny, and then Murdoch. Johnny would have let her go, she was sure of that. He

knew she was upset. For that matter, Murdoch knew it, as well. But, Murdoch, in answer, said, "Finish your meal."

"I'm full," Charlie said.

"You've hardly eaten anything," Murdoch observed. "You can't possibly be full yet."

"But, I am, Murdoch," Charlie insisted. "Please, may I go?"

"Eat a bit more," Murdoch said. Quietly. But, firmly. Very firmly.

"I can't," Charlie protested.

For a long, long couple of moments, the air crackled at the table, as everyone was silent.

"You try, just the same," Murdoch said.

Charlie let her gaze skitter from his, and picked up her fork, suppressing the deep sigh she wanted to release. She ate her potatoes, and

her peas. She ate her piece of beef roast, or nearly all of it, anyway. By now, Teresa had left the table, gathering up some

of the empty dishes as she went. Johnny, too, had finished his meal, and, with a light touch at the back of Charlie's head, he was gone.

Murdoch, though finished with his own meal, still sat at the table. He'd poured himself a tumbler of whiskey from the decanter on the

table, and was sitting there, quietly.

Charlie took a drink of her milk, and risked a look at his end of the table.

"I've finished it all," Charlie said quietly. "Nearly, anyway."

Murdoch nodded, and set his glass down. "Come here," he said then.

Charlie sat for a moment, suddenly feeling timid. He was so, so big. And formidable. And-well, so many things.

She scooted her chair away from the table, and stood up, going over to stand beside his chair.

"I think," Murdoch began, "That if you have something to work out with Teresa, then you need to do that."

"I was going to-right after supper," Charlie said.

"And do you still plan to do that?"

Charlie gave him an expression filled with emotion.

"She shouldn't say I need to be paddled," Charlie said, very low.

"Did she say that?" Murdoch asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I didn't hear it."

"Well-she said rude kids who don't know how to behave should be," Charlie said.

"I believe she was talking about the boys."

When Charlie was silent, Murdoch lifted her chin with his hand. "I think you know how to behave. Don't you?"

Charlie nodded in answer. "Were you rude to Teresa?" Murdoch asked her then.

Charlie sighed in resignation. "Yes." Remembering the way that Johnny had voiced it earlier, she went on. "I should have chosen

my words more carefully."

Murdoch dropped his hand, but held her gaze with his own.

"Well, then, I'm certain Teresa will understand," he said. "And, I think you might be misunderstanding her on some things."

"Okay."

Murdoch reached out, putting a big hand on either side of Charlie's waist, and pulling her nearer.

"With that said, however," he began, "Being rude, especially when someone is giving you a gift, is not a very appropriate

way to act. Add to that, the fact of you talking back to me about finishing your supper, and, well, none of that pleases

me at all."

Charlie felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest.

"I'm sorry for sassing you," Charlie managed.

"Alright. I appreciate the apology. I wouldn't like for it to happen again. If it was to continue, then I think I might have to consider something harsher

than just talking to you."

Charlie swallowed. She didn't think she'd ever been quite so frightened. Well, she'd been frightened, of course, running from the shop keepers

in Stockton, or something such as that. But, this-this was different. Horrible. She couldn't imagine anything more daunting than

being dealt with by an angry Murdoch.

"I don't want that-" Charlie began. "I don't want ever to have you do that!"

"Well, then, just remember our talk we've had here, and we won't have to worry about it," Murdoch said. "Alright?"

"Yes, sir," Charlie said, swallowing hard.

Murdoch surveyed her face, and then said, sounding kind, "Do you have schoolwork to complete?"

"A little. Some-arithmetic sums. And reading."

"Alright. Take your plate out to the kitchen to Maria, and then fetch your sums. We'll see if we can't get them completed."

Charlie nodded, and went upstairs to her bedroom, gathering up her books, and going back down. She went to the library, and stood

in the open doorway. Murdoch was sitting at his desk, sifting thru some papers. Charlie stood there, still and quiet, and when Murdoch

noticed her there, he laid down the papers in his hand and said, "Come in, darling."

Darling? Charlie felt her breath whoosh from her chest. She came into the room, and over to the desk.

"Let's see what you have here," Murdoch said, taking the things from her, and opening the arithmetic book.

"Why don't you start out, and see if you have any struggles," he suggested.

Charlie nodded, and Murdoch pulled a straight back chair over closer.

Charlie was still feeling shaken. Murdoch noticed, and took her hand in his. "You're trembling," he said.

"I don't want you to be angry with me," Charlie said, very softly.

"Darling, I'm not angry with you."

With a sense of great relief, Charlie said, "You're not?"

"No." Murdoch lifted her up, and sat her on his knee. He held her that way, against his chest, for a few minutes. Neither one spoke during those

quiet minutes.

"Where's Scott?" Charlie asked, finally.

"He had a meeting, with some of the other cattlemen, in town."

After that, Murdoch watched, as Charlie worked thru her arithmetic, sitting in the chair beside him. They were just finishing, when

there were sounds of the front door closing, and boot steps walking in their direction.

"It's Scott," Charlie said, feeling glad.

"I think so," Murdoch agreed.

When Scott came into the room, Charlie got up, going to meet him halfway across the wooden floor. Scott laid a hand

at the back of her neck.

"How are things with you?" he asked her.

Charlie looked up at him, and then back to Murdoch. It would be a lie to say that things were fine, or that nothing of much

consequence had happened all that afternoon and evening.

"Murdoch was helping me with my sums," was what Charlie settled for saying.

"Good," Scott said.

For the next few minutes, Scott and Murdoch spent the time talking. Mostly about the meeting that Scott had gone to. Who had

attended, and what had been discussed.

Scott took the glass of whiskey that Murdoch handed off to him. Teresa reappeared. "We've kept your supper warm in the oven," she

told Scott, coming over to stand next to him.

"That's nice," Scott said, sounding grateful. "Thank you."

Teresa smiled at him, and turned, saying, "Come to the kitchen when you're ready."

Scott ran his hand over Charlie's shoulder. "Are you finished with your arithmetic?" he asked.

When Charlie nodded, Scott said, "Well, go on up and get ready for bed. I'll be up soon, and we'll do your reading."

Charlie obeyed, going up the stairs to her bedroom. She'd paused, at the bottom of the staircase. Maybe she should go into the

kitchen and talk to Teresa now, while she was there alone. But, then she lost her nerve. Later, she told herself.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, Charlie had peeled off her overalls and was washing her face and hands when she saw what was on her

dressing table.

The tortoiseshell hairbrush and comb set.

L

Charlie sat down on her bed, in her nightgown, holding the brush and comb. Touching the smoothness of them. She tried to think of why

Teresa had left it there. Charlie wondered why Teresa would still want her to have them, after she'd treated her so badly.

And, being honest with herself, Charlie knew that she had been unnecessarily rude and abrupt to Teresa. Charlie thought she would go

down to the kitchen, and talk to Teresa. If Scott was there, then she would ask Teresa to go into another room, so as to do the apology

in private. Not that she thought she would get away without Scott hearing about everything that had happened. He'd hear about it all, alright. So,

it wasn't that she wanted to hide anything from Scott, really. She just wanted to say her piece to Teresa in privacy. As she was deciding that,

she heard footsteps in the hall, and then the sound of the linen closet doors, opening and then closing again.

Charlie went to her door, and opened it, peeking out. Teresa, with a blanket in her arms, was going into her own bedroom.

Gathering her courage, Charlie went down the hallway the small distance, to Teresa's open door, carrying the tortoiseshell hairbrush.

Teresa was remaking her bed, adding the extra blanket. She turned and saw Charlie there.

"Oh," Teresa said. "You were so quiet, you startled me." She didn't really smile, but she didn't seem upset, either.

"It's supposed to get colder tonight," Teresa said. "You might want to add an extra blanket to your bed, too."

Charlie nodded, and Teresa went over to her dressing table, sitting down. She began taking the pins from her hair.

"Did you want something?" Teresa asked.

"I-saw the brush and comb set," Charlie said, lifting the brush a bit.

Teresa picked up her own hairbrush, and turned on the bench so that she was facing Charlie, pulling the brush thru her dark hair.

"You said you liked it," Teresa said quietly.

"Yes. I do."

"Well, it's yours then," Teresa said, and then she smiled. Just a tiny smile.

"I was mean to you," Charlie said. "Really mean. I was rude, and ungrateful. I'm sorry."

Teresa surveyed Charlie for a long few moments, somberly.

"Charlie," she said, and held out a hand.

Charlie stepped into the room, and went to take Teresa's hand.

Teresa scooted over, so there was room for Charlie to sit beside her on the bench, and, after Charlie had seated herself, Teresa

said, "I made a mistake. About the dress. I see that now. It's very definitely not your type of dress at all."

"It's not," Charlie said. "But, I shouldn't have said those things that I did."

"No," Teresa said, in agreement. "You shouldn't have."

"I thought you were wanting me to be different than what I am. Be more like a girl that would wear that sort of dress."

"Oh, I wouldn't want that, Charlie. I like you just the way that you are. That's not what I meant at all."

"I wasn't sure you'd want me to keep the brush set, after what I said," Charlie said.

"You mean about how I only gave you that, so I could force the dress on you?" Teresa asked.

Charlie nodded.

"I want you to have it. No strings attached," Teresa said, and then she smiled in humor. "No having to wear the 'tomato costume'."

Charlie couldn't help the giggle that escaped. She was just so relieved that things between her and Teresa were alright again. And, besides,

Teresa was making a funny face when she mentioned that. The 'tomato costume'.

Teresa giggled, as well.

After that, Teresa offered to brush Charlie's hair, using the new hairbrush, and while they were doing that, they kept stopping to laugh.

L

They were in the midst of one of those fits of giggles, when Scott cleared his throat. Both of them looked up to see him standing

there in the doorway, leaning against the wall.

"Oh. Scott," Teresa said. "We didn't see you there."

"I'm not surprised," Scott said. "The way you both were carrying on, laughing." He was smiling a little.

"I guess we just have a case of the giggles." Teresa answered, still running the brush thru Charlie's long hair.

"Did you two have a problem between you earlier?" he asked then. It was evident that he'd been told at least a bit about

what had happened.

"We did. It's all settled now," Teresa said.

"It is?" he asked.

"It very definitely is. Right, Charlie?"

"Right," Charlie echoed.

"There. You see? Nothing for you to worry about, Scott," Teresa said, in a breezy tone.

Charlie saw that Scott was looking serious, and Teresa must have seen it, as well. She handed the new hairbrush

back to Charlie, and said, "There. Your hair's all brushed out."

Then she stood up, and Charlie did, too.

"I think I'll go down and get a glass of milk before bed," Teresa said, and paused in front of Scott. "What happened is between

Charlie and me," she said, looking at his face. "So no scolding, alright? Promise?"

"Alright, I promise," Scott said, with a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Good." Teresa reached up and gave his cheek a kiss. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Scott told her.

"Goodnight, Charlie," Teresa called back as she made her way down the stairs.

"'Night, Teresa."

L

A bit later, after Scott had listened while Charlie finished her reading and he was tucking her into bed,

Charlie told him about the next afternoon, and being invited to go fishing with the other children. She told him who was going, and

how nice these kids were, and finished with a burst. "And I really want to go!"

"I can tell that you do," he said.

Sitting there, on her bed, cross-legged, Charlie said, looking at him hopefully, "Can I, Scott?"

"It's 'may I'," he corrected automatically.

"May I?" Charlie rephrased. "Please?"

"Where do they fish at?" he asked.

"At Rebecca and Jason's grandfather's pond."

"And where is that?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure-but I know Rebecca said that it doesn't take long to walk there from school."

"What's their last name? Jason and Rebecca?"

When Charlie told him, Scott nodded. "I think I know their grandfather. He lives just outside of town."

"And he doesn't mind them bringing other kids over there to fish?" Scott asked.

"Rebecca says he doesn't mind. And I've seen other kids leave school to go there with them."

Scott looked as though he was considering, and Charlie kept still, though it was a real effort on her part.

"You can go," he said.

"Thank you!" Charlie said, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him.

"I want you to be home by five o'clock, though. So, that means you'd be able to fish for an hour and a half, and then you'd

need to get started for home. Alright?"

"Yes. Alright."

"What about a fishing pole?" he asked.

"Rebecca says they have extras, that they leave in the barn there."

"Alright."

Charlie wrapped her arms around her knees. "These are nice kids, Scott. Remember when you said there had to be kids that

fit somewhere in between the kids in Stockton, and those stuck-up girls at boarding school?"

"I remember."

"Well, these are that in-between kind of kids."

"I'm glad," Scott said, and smiled at her. Patting her knee, he said, "And no problems with the boys? Monte and his brother?"

"They just glared at me. That was all."

"Good. Time to get to sleep." He reached over and turned the lamp down.

After Scott had said goodnight, and gone, leaving the door slightly ajar, Charlie curled up to go to sleep, feeling happy. It was interesting,

the way things worked in a family, she thought. She and Teresa had had a disagreement, but then, in the end, all was well again. And Johnny

was so good at the way he explained things, and he was loads of fun, too. Though she would have admitted to being just a bit intimidated by Murdoch

at his gruffest, she found she still longed to be in his company.

And, Scott. Well, he was sort of a like a hero. He'd been on her side ever since he'd helped her out that first day, at the railroad station

months ago.

Filled with contentment as she was at that moment, Charlie couldn't imagine ever arguing with Teresa again, or doing anything

remotely naughty or against the rules.

Her last thought as she drifted into sleep was of the fact that to get to Rebecca's grandpa's pond, she would have to pass right by the shack of

the mysterious glass-eyed man.

L


	13. New friends

Charlie was so excited by the prospect of the upcoming after-school excursion to the pond that she had difficulty in

concentrating on her lessons during the school day. She misspelled three words during the recitations that she definitely should not have.

She knew the words, absolutely. It had to be the excitement.

Charlie felt embarrassed about missing the spelling of the words, but told herself it wouldn't happen again.

Once school had been dismissed, Charlie went along with Jason and Rebecca and two other kids, Tyler and Mitchell, to

set out for the pond. They were a jolly group as they walked, laughing and talking.

As they were coming up close upon the tar papered shack, Tyler and Mitchell both began walking faster.

"Come on," they urged, and ran ahead.

"Why are they hurrying?" Charlie asked Rebecca.

"They're afraid of the man that lives there," Rebecca said.

The girls lagged behind until Jason stopped to wait for them.

"Are you afraid of the man?" Charlie asked Rebecca.

"Well," Rebecca looked considering, "It's not that I'm scared of him. But I'm not not scared, either. You know what I

mean?"

"Becca, come on," Jason said.

After that, the girls walked faster, in order to keep up with the boys. And, Charlie had so much fun with the other children that

that was all she thought about. They fished, and waded in the creek.

As they were making their way back towards town, after fishing, with the boys carrying the string of fish that

they'd caught between them all, the three boys were a considerable distance ahead.

Charlie had walked slowly, on purpose. She peppered Rebecca with questions about the mysterious man.

"How long has he lived there?" Charlie asked, as they were within sight of the shack.

"I don't know. About a year, I think. Before that, a family with five kids lived there."

"Oh, that's sad," Charlie said, thinking of how crowded it would be in that tiny shack with five children.

"Why is everyone afraid of him?" she asked Rebecca then.

"My pa says he's tetched. I guess everybody thinks that. And, so, they don't know what he might do."

"Tetched?" Charlie asked, puzzled.

"Not right," Rebecca explained. "You know, off in the head."

"Have you ever talked to him?"

"No. My pa says to stay clear of him."

"He has dogs," Charlie said.

"I know. They bark if somebody gets too close to the property."

Jason had come, walking back, and he gave Rebecca's arm a tug. "Come on, Becca. You know Pa says not to hang round, and

aggravate the old man."

"We're not," Rebecca protested, as Jason began towing her along. All three children paused again, though, as there was

a loud banging. Such as the sound of a door flapping shut. The two hounds appeared, and set up a chorus of barking at them.

"Golly," Rebecca said, as if frozen.

"Just stand still," Jason advised. "If you run, they'll chase ya."

So they stood still, as one of the hounds came into the road, towards them.

It was still barking, and sniffing the air about them.

"We smell like fish to him, most likely," Jason said, low.

And then, the man appeared from around the corner of the shack. He was carrying a rifle.

Beside her, Charlie felt Rebecca stiffen in fear. The short man, dressed shabbily as always, stood still, and raised his rifle,

though not pointing directly at the children.

"You all clear on out of here!" he hollered across to them. "And leave me be, ya hear?"

"We're goin'," Jason said, and began towing Rebecca along behind him. Charlie was standing still, and the

man made a step or two more. "Ya hearin' me, girl? Get on with ya, or I'll set my dogs on ya!"

"Come on, Charlie," Jason said, in a low voice.

Charlie began walking, keeping her eyes on the old man as she did so. This was the same man who'd been so polite

when he'd bumped into her at the edge of the alley that day? He didn't sound the same. Not at all.

"It's a public road," Charlie said, as she walked on.

"What say?" the old man hollered, coming closer.

"Charlie, keep still," Jason ordered.

None of the three spoke until they'd reached the town outskirts.

"Golly," Rebecca said, again.

"Told ya you shouldn't have been just standing there," Jason said.

Rebecca stopped walking, and looked at Jason. "Don't tell Pa, alright, Jase? Please?"

"You know to keep walking right past, comin' and goin' both," Jason went on.

"We just stopped for a couple of minutes," Charlie spoke up in Rebecca's defense.

Jason turned his gaze to Charlie. "Look, Charlie," he said, slowly, "You're new round here and all, but you ought

to listen to what folks tell ya about that old man."

"You mean that he's tetched?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know if he is or he isn't. But, you can't be stoppin' in front of his house that way, or talkin' back to him, like

you did. Tellin' him it's a public road and all."

"Well, it is, isn't it?" Charlie countered, and then regretted it, as Jason's rolled his eyes with irritation.

She wanted Jason to like her. If she got too contrary, he might not want to let her tag along with he and his friends next time.

"Yeah. Sure it is. But, it's just using your head. I mean, he's wavin' a gun around. You just don't want to rile him."

"Okay," Charlie agreed, and then saw that Rebecca was still looking nervous. Thinking of her Pa, most likely.

"It was my fault. I'm the one that stopped walking to look," Charlie told Jason. "Don't blame Rebecca."

Jason set off walking again, and the girls ran to catch up.

"You don't have to tell your father, do you?" Charlie asked him.

"I probably oughta," Jason said. "At least let Pa know he had a gun out."

"He could have been getting ready to go hunting, or something," Charlie offered. "Maybe he wasn't trying to

scare us with it. All he really said he'd do, was to set the dogs on us."

"You've got an answer for everything, don't ya?" Jason said, and headed towards the general mercantile.

The girls waited outside for him, neither one of them talking, until Jason came back out.

He handed each of the girls a licorice whip, and said, "I won't say anything to Pa."

Rebecca smiled at Jason, and Charlie said, "Thanks. And thank you for the candy, too."

"You're welcome."

"What time is it?" Charlie asked, and Jason pulled out a watch on a chain from his pocket.

"Quarter to five," he said.

"Oh, golly, I've got to go," Charlie said. "See you tomorrow," she called back, as she ran towards the

stable to get Gurth.

"We'll go fishin' again day after tomorrow," Jason hollered after her.

Charlie turned, running backwards a few steps. "Okay! Bye!"

By the time she had Gurth saddled, and was on her way back to the ranch, she knew she was going to be

there past the agreed upon time of five o'clock.

Hopefully, she thought, Scott wouldn't be up near the house as yet, or Murdoch either.

L

Charlie didn't dally on the way home, though she didn't run Gurth at full speed, either. She did gallop him. He seemed

to enjoy the run, after being cooped up at the stable since early morning.

When she came up to the barn, she slid down, and began to unsaddle Gurth. She'd put away her tack, and was

rubbing Gurth down, when Johnny appeared.

"Hey, pequeno," he said, in greeting. "How was the fishin'?"

"It was fun!" Charlie said with enthusiasm.

"Were the fish biting?"  
"We caught a whole string between us. I didn't bring any home. The other two boys took them this time."

Johnny nodded. "I'll put Gurth up for ya. You ought to get to your chores."

"Okay. Is Scott around?" she asked.

"He's around somewhere. Why?"

Charlie shrugged, a slightly guilty smile on her face.

"You mean, because you're late gettin' home?" Johnny asked, teasingly.

"Not so very late," Charlie defended.

"Go on and do your chores," Johnny said.

L

Charlie had gathered the eggs, and fed the chickens, and by the time she was washing her hands in the kitchen,

Maria was ringing the supper bell. They were walking into the dining room, when Scott asked how her afternoon

had gone.

"Have fun?" he asked her.

"Yes! So much fun," Charlie told him.

"Good. I'm glad."

During the meal, the upcoming visit of Mr. Beets was discussed. Mr. Beets had visited the ranch twice in the last

month. He would come, dressed in his bank finery, and then would change to the denim pants and work shirt, and help out

with whatever needed doing. He seemed to enjoy his time working outdoors, and would generally spend the night before returning

to Stockton on the stage.

Charlie had spent long hours talking with the banker, and found that she liked him quite well. He'd begun to come, at the onset, in order

to keep informed on how Charlie was doing at Lancer. That was part of the new arrangement between he, and Scott, and Katherine.

Though Charlie had her own opinions about that. Katherine didn't give a rat's behind about how she was doing with the Lancer family.

Mr. Beets was to check on Charlie's progress, both with the family, and in school, and then report to the board at the bank which

was in charge of Charlie's inheritance. Scott had maintained from the beginning of the guardianship that he wanted no funds

to have Charlie there with him. Charlie had come into the room to overhear enough bits of conversation to know that Scott

still maintained that. That thought made Charlie feel all warm inside.

"I'm glad Mr. Beets is coming," Teresa said. "He's such a nice man."

"He seems to enjoy his time here," Murdoch commented.

"He's a wanna-be rancher in banker's clothes," Johnny said.

"You'll be able to tell him about school, and your new friends you've made," Murdoch told Charlie, from his end of the

table.

Charlie, her mouth full of roast beef, said, "Mmm huh."

"I'll help make sure the guest room is ready for him," Teresa said. And after that, the conversation turned to the party

that the Stones were going to be hosting soon. It was to be a supper party, for all ages.

"You'll come, won't you, Johnny?" Teresa implored. "Mrs. Stone especially asked if you would."

"Aw, I don't know," Johnny said carelessly.

"Well, it's a family invitation, so we're all supposed to attend," Teresa said.

That got Charlie's attention. That meant she would have to get more dressed up than usual, and go where it would

be most likely boring.

"You should have Lucy come home with you sometime after school," Teresa said to Charlie. "Or on a Saturday."

"She doesn't like to ride. Or fish. Or do anything outside like that," Charlie said.

"Well, couldn't you do something different then? While she's here?"

"Lucy's sort of a-" Charlie hesitated. "Well, a prig."

Johnny hid his grin behind his water glass.

"That's not very kind," Murdoch said.

"Well, it's true," Charlie said, and now Johnny's laugh escaped before he contained it again.

"You don't have to say everything that comes into your head, Charlie," Teresa said.

"I just meant that Lucy's not as good a friend as Rebecca and Jason, and some of the other kids," Charlie said.

For a moment or so there was a surprised silence at the table. Charlie sensed that she'd said too much.

"Is that the wrong way to feel?" Charlie asked, to the table in general.

"Not wrong, exactly," Scott said. "You just need to remember to be kind to Lucy, even if she's not who you

prefer to spend your time with."

Charlie was somber, looking at Scott, when Teresa went on, "And remember, Lucy was your first friend here, too."

Charlie didn't see what that had to do with anything. But, she didn't say that.

"Well, anyway, I'm sure we'll all have a good time at the Stone's gathering," Teresa said, reaching for the bowl of carrots.

Charlie didn't feel sure of it.

L


	14. Surprise of a greeting

When Scott had finished their nightly reading together, and had tucked the quilt around Charlie, she said,

"The kids are going fishing again."

"Are they?" he asked.

"Yes. Can I-" Charlie caught herself, "May I go with them again?"

"Tomorrow?" he asked.

A plan had been forming in Charlie's mind during the evening, where it had settled, and she had been mulling over it. She'd thought

she could claim to fishing, and do a bit more investigation of the old man. If she went with the other kids to Jason's grandpa's pond, and

only stayed a short while, well, that wouldn't be lying then, exactly. Would it?

After all, she _would go_ to the pond first.

"Tomorrow. Or the next day," Charlie answered.

"Well, it has to be one or the other," Scott said. "Otherwise, if you're late getting home, we wouldn't know if you were fishing,

or if something was wrong."

"Oh. Well, tomorrow, then," Charlie told him.

"I suppose it's alright," Scott said, but he was smiling.

L

The next day, Charlie left for school, carrying extra food in her lunch tin. Maria had packed it for her, telling her to share

the cookies with her friends while they were fishing.

Charlie felt a momentary feeling of guilt, but she pushed it down. Maria was just being nice. There was no need to feel

badly for her kind act. And, Charlie told herself that she would, indeed, share the cookies. At some point.

Charlie had to wait for the first recess to talk to Rebecca about the after-school plan.

Rebecca looked startled. "Golly, Charlie," she said, sounding breathless.

The girls were sitting under one of the large Oak trees in the school yard. "Don't you want to know?" Charlie asked

Rebecca. "Aren't you curious?"

"Well, yes," Rebecca admitted. "But I'm scared, too."

"We won't go that close," Charlie said. "I just want to look at it from the back side."

"What about Jason?" Rebecca asked. "He won't go along with it. And he'll tell my Pa."

"Then it'll be just you and me going," Charlie said, and ignored the second flicker of guilt at trying to trick Jason.

Rebecca agreed, though still somewhat reluctantly. Jason, when told, said he was too busy to take them fishing that

afternoon.

"We'll go alone," Rebecca said, sounding confident.

Jason eyed both girls, looking somewhat suspicious. "Wait 'till tomorrow," he advised. "Then I'll go with ya."

"We want to go today," Rebecca maintained.

"I don't think I can go tomorrow," Charlie added, for good measure.

Jason looked unhappy, but the teacher was ringing the bell to return to the schoolhouse, so he said no more.

After school, the girls made quick work of exiting, and were running on the road out of town, before Jason could

catch them.

They walked past the tar paper shack, and continued to the barn, grabbing a pole each, and trekking to the pond.

"This way, we can say we really did go fishing," Charlie said.

Rebecca gave Charlie a startled look. "Does that make it like not lying?" she asked.

"Well," Charlie considered. "Not exactly." She cast her line into the pond water, remembering what Scott had said

about listening to her conscience. And all those lines that he'd made her write, too. 'I will listen to my conscience', over

and over.

The girls were silent, fishing, but no fish attempted to snatch the bait.

"We should be going, I reckon," Rebecca said finally.

Charlie nodded, and they stood up, gathering up the poles and their school things. They began to walk back, and came to

a point where Rebecca stopped, and pointed. "That's the back way," she said.

Charlie and Rebecca exchanged a long glance. "Maybe we hadn't ought to," Charlie said.

"You don't want to now?" Rebecca asked.

"It is like lying," Charlie said.

"Yes."

After another long moment of quiet, Charlie said, "Let's just go the regular way."

She could tell Rebecca was relieved.

So they began to walk on, until the small shack was in view.

"He's sitting right out front!" Rebecca said.

And, he was. The two dogs were there, as well, lying beside the man. He was seated on a bench, and appeared to be

working with something in his hands.

"What do we do now?" Rebecca asked, in a loud whisper.

"We walk on," Charlie said, trying to sound braver than she felt.

The girls began to walk, slowly, and when they came closer, it seemed as though the man was going to take no notice

of them at all.

No shouting. No threatening. He kept whittling at the piece of wood in his hand.

Then, just as nice as you please, he looked up, and said, "Hullo." His voice was soft. It had a lilt to it, Charlie thought.

Neither girl spoke at first. They just kept inching past, keeping their eyes on him.

"It's a fine afternoon," the man said then.

Rebecca reached for Charlie's hand.

"Yes," Charlie acknowledged. She was more curious than ever. She sensed no danger from this man. Or the dogs. The two dogs

had neither one raised their heads to look at the girls. No barking as they had the day before. And, the man. He was calm appearing.

And, his voice. There was something about his voice that was different from the afternoon before.

"Fish not biting today?" he asked then. He'd stopped his whittling on the small piece of wood, and was looking directly at

the girls. Charlie stopped walking, and Rebecca did too, bumping into Charlie's side.

"No," Charlie said.

"Well, there's always tomorrow," he said. He turned his attention back to the whittling project. "Good day to ya," he said, in

the same lilting voice.

The girls walked on, and Charlie looked back only once. The man had gone. Either inside or elsewhere. The dogs were still

there. But, the man was gone.

L

The two girls puzzled over the strangeness of it all. That the man was so very different than he'd been the day before. That

he hadn't seemed to resent their presence, walking past. That he hadn't threatened them, or hollered. Instead, he'd made

somewhat conversation. Seemed approachable.

"It's like it's not the same man at all," Charlie puzzled.

"I'm glad that he didn't holler at us today," Rebecca said. "Or wave his gun around."

The girls made a pact between them to not mention to anyone that they'd had an actual conversation with

the man.

By now, Rebecca's curiousity was peaked, as well. The girls made some plans.

L

At supper, Charlie began to lay the groundwork. She said the fish hadn't been biting that afternoon, and that

she and Rebecca thought they'd try again the next day.

"Just you and Rebecca?" Johnny spoke up.

"I think so. Why?"

"I don't think you two girls ought to be walkin' about by yourselves," Johnny said.

"I don't think so, either," Teresa offered.

Charlie stared at them. She could see her plans swirling away.

"Other kids will want to go, too," she said, choosing her words carefully. After all, she reasoned, other kids would

want to go, if they knew the strangeness of the situation. They'd be curious, too. Just because she and Rebecca had no

intention to tell any other kids, well, that was beside the point. Again, the prick of her conscience at the near-lie. Charlie

pushed it aside.

"May I go?" she asked, turning to Scott.

"We'll see," he said, non-committedly.

Well, that was a very unsatisfactory answer. In Charlie's opinion.

"But, we've planned it-" she began.

"I said, 'we'll see'," Scott said. And, that was that.

Charlie had to tamp down her impatience. She finished her meal in silence, and helped to clear the table when everyone was

done.

She had to take a bath that night, and then there was schoolwork to complete. Once tucked up in bed, she broached the

subject again.

"What about the fishing tomorrow, with Rebecca?" she asked.

"I don't have any objection to you going fishing," Scott began, and Charlie sighed in relief.

Then he went on. "I don't think you need to go every single afternoon, though. There's things you need to do around

here. Jelly could use some help this week with picking the fruit trees."

"I can do that the next afternoon," Charlie promised rashly. "And on Saturday."

"For a while on Saturday, maybe. Mr. Beets is going to be here, remember?"

"Alright. But, tomorrow? Is it alright if I go?" Charlie persisted.

Scott moved his arms, putting a hand on either side of Charlie, and leaning down just a bit.

"I'm getting the impression that there's more to all of this than just wanting to go fishing," he said.

Charlie felt her face turn warm. How did he do that? Sometimes it was as though he could see into her thoughts.

"Is there?" Scott asked. "More to it, I mean?"

Charlie reached up to touch her warm cheek, not even realizing that she did so.

"I like having friends," she managed.

"I know that. That's not what I asked you."

"I'm not doing anything that's bad," Charlie said. After all, trying to get to the bottom of a mystery wasn't a bad thing. Was it?

Scott regarded her seriously for a long, long moment. "Alright. You can go fishing tomorrow. But the rest of the week you

come home after school. Agreed?"

Charlie nodded, relieved that he'd given permission. "Agreed."

L


	15. Footsteps lead

Leaving for school the next morning, Charlie got an inspiration. She went to retrieve a knapsack and filled it with pears and apples

from the fruit trees. As she was gathering up her lunch tin, the knapsack over her shoulder, Maria nodded to it.

"Que es eso?"

"Pears and apples," Charlie answered, understanding the word 'what' in the Spanish question.

Maria paused from her stirring at the stove. She looked puzzled, and Charlie understood that look, even without

any words.

"I want to share them with someone," Charlie said. "Is it alright?"

Maria nodded. "Preguntele al Sr. Murdoch."

Again, Charlie didn't need Johnny to interpret Maria's words. So, she went to find Murdoch. He was in his library, sorting thru

papers on his desk. He looked somewhat distracted, and Charlie hesitated at the doorway.

"Murdoch?" she said.

Without looking up, Murdoch replied, "What is it, darling?"

"Maria said I should ask you. Is it alright if I take some pears and apples with me today? To share?"

"Of course," he said. And then, looking up, he smiled at her. "With the other children?"

"With someone who I think might not have enough to eat," Charlie said, in honesty.

"I see," Murdoch said, looking serious. "Well, of course you can take them," he repeated.

"Thank you," Charlie said.

"Have a good day, darling," Murdoch said, and turned his attention back to the stack of papers.

Charlie told him goodbye, and raced out of the front door, nearly colliding with Scott. Scott reached out to

steady her, a hand on each shoulder.

"Whoa, there," he said.

"Sorry," Charlie said breathlessly.

"You're not late, are you?" he asked her.

"No. But, I don't want to be late."

"Okay," Scott said, running a hand over her hair. "Well, you'd best get going, then."

"Don't forget," Charlie reminded him. "I'm fishing after school today."

"I remember. Home by five."

"Alright. Bye!" Charlie said, and headed off to the barn, where Jelly had a saddled Gurth waiting.

"Thanks, Jelly!" she told him, as she mounted Gurth, and headed out for school.

L

For a day that had started out so promising, the rest of it declined rapidly. Before they went into the school building,

Rebecca told Charlie that she couldn't go with her that afternoon.

"My Ma has chores for me," Rebecca said.

"Aww," Charlie said, in disappointment.

"I can go tomorrow, though," Rebecca said. "I already asked her, and she said yes."

Thinking back to the evening before, and her bedtime conversation with Scott, Charlie remembered his statement

about how she needed to come home from school the rest of the week. No fishing.

Charlie puzzled over that the rest of the morning. Should she go home today right after school, and ask Scott if she

could go tomorrow instead? Or should she continue with the plan today, on her own?

Brave though she considered herself, Charlie thought it would take courage to approach the tar-paper shack on

her own. What if the man wasn't as he'd been the afternoon before? What if he was the scary, hollering version?

Monte chose recess to give Charlie's braid a hard tug as he passed behind her.

"Snitch," he said, in a loud whisper.

Charlie gritted her teeth. She should have known that the seeming truce between her and the boys wouldn't last.

"At least I don't torment helpless old men," Charlie told him.

"Helpless?!" Monte exclaimed. "Is that what you think? That old man is about as helpless as a rattlesnake!" Monte leaned

over the railing that Charlie was sitting against, and said, very low, "He eats kids, you know. He'd think you were nice and

juicy!"

Charlie stood up, and whirled to face Monte. "You are an ignoramous," she informed him.

"I'm not!"

"You don't even know what it means," Charlie said, giving him a superior look.

"Listen, you-" Monte said, reaching out to yank on Charlie's braid again.

"Leave her be, Monte," said a warning voice, and Monte turned to face Jason.

Jason was a half a head taller than Monte, and there was no question who would win a scuffle between them.

"Snitch," Monte hissed again, before he stalked off across the schoolyard.

L

By the end of the school day, Charlie had made up her mind as to what she was going to do. She would, she thought, walk

on out to the shack by herself. She would see if the man was outside, as he'd been yesterday. If so, she would offer the

sack of fruit to him, and maybe talk a few minutes, and that would be that. If he was in his 'peculiar' mode, and hollered,

then she would leave the fruit at the edge of the road, and make herself scarce in a hurry.

L

As Charlie was preparing to leave the school yard, and set out, Lucy Stone caught up with her. Breathless though Lucy

was, not a hair was out of place. Charlie thought she looked like a doll in a catalog.

"Our party is Sunday," she said. "You're coming, aren't you?"

"I'm not sure," Charlie said, vaguely. She would not, she thought, go if she had any choice about it.

"Oh, it's going to be lots of fun! You have to! Teresa told my sister that all of you are coming. All of the Lancers, I mean."

And then, Lucy talked on. And on. And on. "I mean, you're sort of a Lancer now, aren't you? Since you're living with them,

and Scott's like your guardian, isn't he? My mother says you're a very fortunate girl to be there with them-"

"Excuse me, Lucy," Charlie interrupted Lucy's steam of chatter. "I have to be going."

"Oh, alright," Lucy said, looking a bit crestfallen. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," Charlie echoed, and headed out.

L

Charlie walked swiftly until the shack was in sight. Then, she slowed her steps somewhat. She could see from here

that there was someone sitting out front.

She clutched the knapsack closer to her chest, and walked on. She paused in the road, not directly in front of the

shack, but to the side. The man was again working with his hands, whittling.

When there was no evidence that the man was going to look up, Charlie said, "Good afternoon."

Ah. There she had his attention.

"Good afternoon," he returned the greeting. In the same lilting voice as yesterday. Charlie felt relief wash over her.

"How are you today?" Charlie asked him then.

"I've the luck of the Irish behind me," the man said.

Charlie wondered what that meant. She decided not to ask.

"I brought some fruit," she said, raising the knapsack in her hand.

The man looked at her, but did not respond.

"Pears. And apples," Charlie went on. "I thought you might like them."

Still he was silent. Just looking at her. Charlie began to wonder what she should say next. Why didn't he answer?

"If you like fruit, that is," Charlie said.

"I do enjoy a good pear, when I can get one," he said, finally answering.

Charlie waited. Thinking he would stand up, and come over to get the fruit. Or tell her to bring it to him. He did neither one.

"I need my knapsack," Charlie said. "Do you have something to put the fruit in?"

The man reached to his side, and scooted a space on the bench where he sat. Moving a cup, and what looked from where she stood

to be a book.

"You can set them here," he said.

Charlie hesitated. Wishing he would come to her, and bring a pan, or a bucket to put the fruit in. Going that close. Right

up to where he sat. That was different than standing in the road. At least, it seemed so to Charlie.

"I don't know if I should-" she said.

When the man just looked at her, and said nothing, Charlie told herself she was being foolish. After all, she saw no

gun resting nearby, and she knew for a certainty that she could run, and run fast, if necessary.

So she stepped from the road, and began to walk up closer to the shack. When she was about five feet from him, she

stepped forward to set the knapsack onto the bench, and then stepped back again.

The man opened the knapsack and began to take the fruit out. He did it slowly, deliberately, looking at each piece of fruit.

This close to him, Charlie was studying him, wishing he would look up, so she could see the infamous glass eye.

And then, he finished setting out the fruit, and handed the knapsack back out to Charlie. Charlie took it, getting a good

look at his face then. His face was tanned, lined with age, but his eyes, well, they were a dark blue. Nearly as blue as

Johnny's eyes.

And, she couldn't tell which one was made of glass.

"My name is Charlie," Charlie said. She waited for the man to give his own name. To introduce himself. He didn't.

"Charlie, is it?" he asked.

"Well, it's really Charlotte," Charlie explained. "But, I prefer Charlie."

"Charlotte is a fine name, I'd say."

Silence then.

"Thank you," Charlie said, to get him to talking again.

She kept studying his face. Did they make glass eyes to match the color of the other eye? She hadn't known that

that could be done.

"Will you and your friends be fishing today?" he asked.

"No. Not today, I don't think. They couldn't go."

He nodded in response. Silence, then.

"Do you like to fish?" Charlie asked him.

"The fish need not fear me," he said, in answer.

Charlie was puzzled, yet again, by his cryptic answers. What did that mean? 'The fish need not fear me'?

"Where are your dogs?" she asked.

"They belong to themselves. Not to me. They go where they please. They come when they please."

"Oh," Charlie said.

The man returned his attention to his whittling. Charlie thought it looked as though it was some sort of an

animal that he was carving. What animal, though, she couldn't tell.

"How is your horse?" Charlie asked.

"I have no horse."

"I mean the horse you bought at the auction a few weeks ago," Charlie explained.

"I have no horse," the man said again.

Charlie felt a quiver run down her back. She'd seen the man leading the horse away from the auction, and out of town.

When he said no more for several minutes, but just whittled in silence, Charlie cleared her throat a bit, and said,

"I guess I should be getting home."

"It's a grand afternoon," he said, in response.

"Yes. Well, goodbye."

He didn't return her goodbye, and Charlie walked to the edge of the yard, near the road, and then paused,

turning back. He hadn't raised his head from his whittling.

"I can bring you some more fruit. If you'd like me to," Charlie told him.

"If your footsteps bring you," he replied.

L


	16. Blue eyes

Charlie puzzled over the odd conversation she'd had with the old man, as she rode home. She didn't rush Gurth, but let him

take his time, as she thought about what had happened.

The man was surely strange. No doubt of that. Why was he so different from one day to the next in his demeanor and the

way he reacted to things? And what he said, about not having a horse? Well, that was just the oddest thing ever.

She'd seen with her own eyes, that he took the old horse from the auction that day. Charlie thought

back to what Lucy had said. That the old man ate horses. Surely he did not. That was just one of those stories that ran rampant

amongst kids when they wanted to act like they knew something big.

Once at the ranch, Charlie unsaddled her horse, and rubbed him down, and turned him out into the pastures. She was putting

the tack away, still deep into thought, when a finger-poke to her shoulder made her jump, startled.

She turned swiftly to look up at Jelly.

"You scared me!" Charlie told him.

"Your mind was somewhere else, alright," he said. "I need your help picking some of that fruit off those trees."

"Okay," Charlie agreed, as another thought occurred to her. She followed after Jelly to the orchard, where they both began

picking apples.

"Jelly?" Charlie began.

"Hmmph?" Jelly said, in response.

"Do you know most everybody around here?"

"I reckon as I know about near everybody."

"Do you know that man that lives on the edge of town? In that tiny shack? The one that people say has a glass eye?" Charlie asked.

"I know him alright."

"You do?" Charlie paused in her fruit picking, and stepped closer to Jelly.

"Course, I do. Said I did, didn't I?" Jelly proclaimed sounding indignant.

"Well, why is everyone so frightened of him? And why does he never go around folks in town? And, does he really have

a glass eye?"

Peppered with her questions, Jelly stopped his task and gave Charlie an irritated glance. "I said I knew him. Didn't say I

knew all about him, did I?"

"Oh," Charlie said, and returned to her apple picking. "So you don't really know much," she added, disappointed.

"I know things," Jelly protested.

"Like what?"

"I know he's a loon," Jelly proclaimed. "And he likes to be left alone. That's all I need to know."

"Why do you say he's a loon?" Charlie asked.

"Well, 'cause he is."

"Maybe nobody has tried to get to know him," Charlie pointed out.

There was silence for a few minutes, as they both picked the fruit, and then, as they were gathering up the overflowing

buckets, and walking towards the house, Charlie said, "He has a lilt to his voice, sort of. Like he's from another place, or something."

Jelly, in front of Charlie, stopped so suddenly that Charlie nearly ran into his back.

"You been talkin' to him, have ya?" Jelly asked, suspiciously.

Charlie eyed Jelly speculatively. He seemed disturbed by her comment. Bothered.

"I've heard him talk," Charlie settled for saying. She didn't want Jelly saying anything to Scott, or anyone else.

"You'd best not be hangin' round him, you hear? Scott will skin you."

Charlie met his look, silently, and Jelly turned to begin walking again, adding, "Or iffen Scott didn't, then the boss surely

would."

By 'the boss' Jelly meant Murdoch. A shiver ran up Charlie's back.

After that, Jelly went on his way, and Charlie had the snack Maria had prepared for her. After that she was set

to helping peel a mass of the just-picked apples.

"Donde estan los peces?" Maria asked Charlie.

Charlie knew the word 'donde' and 'peces' was fish, she was fairly certain. Where are the fish?

Charlie settled for shaking her head, and said, "No fish," in a vague way.

Maria eyed her, but said no more. As Charlie peeled, Maria began to fry the apples, and then sprinkled them with

liberal amounts of sugar. The smell filled the air of the kitchen, and for a while Charlie forgot all about the mystery of the

old man, and just enjoyed her time with Maria.

They were still working on the apples when Johnny drifted into the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink,

and sniffing the air in appreciation.

"It's smellin' in here like what heaven must smell like," Johnny said.

Maria smiled at him in an indulgent way. Her fondness for Johnny was apparent. Johnny reached into the cookie jar and

took out two of the large cookies.

Biting into one, he said, "Hey there, pequeno."

"Hi, Johnny."

Johnny came over closer, to where Charlie was perched on the tall kitchen stool, peeling the apples.

"We havin' fish tonight?" he asked her.

"No."

"How come? Those boys take all the fish home again today? You need to tell them it's your turn."

"I'll tell them, the next time we catch any," Charlie said, in an off-hand sort of way, and felt a prickle at

the evasion of the truth. She hoped Johnny would let it drop.

"Were they bitin' today?" he asked then. "Maybe you all need to try a new spot."

Charlie felt her face get a bit warm. Johnny was watching her now, and though his blue eyes didn't show

suspicion, Charlie wished he would take his cookies and leave the kitchen.

She didn't say anything in response, and Johnny said, "You spose?" to her.

"What?" Charlie asked, sure that he could tell her face was warm.

"I said, do you suppose you need to find a new fishin' spot?" he repeated.

"Maybe," Charlie settled for saying, and looked away from those blue eyes.

As she peeled, Johnny took another step or so closer, and leaned down just a bit.

"What's wrong?" he asked, in a soft tone.

"Nothing," Charlie said. She kept on with her task, thinking he would drop it, but getting more uncomfortable

by the moment. He wasn't saying anything then, just standing there, at her elbow, and Charlie knew if she were to

look his way again, he would have that intent gaze on her, studying her.

"You're actin' peculiar," Johnny said.

"I'm not," Charlie said, and forced herself to look up at him. Brown met blue. "You're making me feel like

a bug," she protested.

"How am I makin' you feel like a bug?" Johnny asked.

"You're-" Charlie tried to think of the words she wanted to say, "Well, you just are!"

For a long moment, Johnny was silent, and then he said, "Well, alright. I didn't intend to make you feel like a bug." Now, he

sounded somewhat amused, and Charlie hoped he was done with his questions. Johnny took another cookie from the cookie

jar, smiling at Maria's protest, and left the kitchen, going back outdoors.

Charlie took a deep breath, releasing it.

L

At supper, they had the fried apples, along with their roast beef and vegetables. Charlie was biting into her roll, when

Teresa offered an innocent comment which began the downfall of Charlie's evening.

"I thought you were going fishing with Rebecca today," Teresa said.

Charlie swept her glance up to Teresa. She wrinkled her forehead, wondering in an instant why Teresa was saying that.

"What?" Charlie asked, to buy herself a moment or so.

"I thought you were going fishing," Teresa repeated. "And then I saw Rebecca with her mother at the store this

afternoon."

Charlie frowned at Teresa, wishing that Teresa could understand without words what Charlie wanted to convey. To

stop talking about fishing. And Rebecca. Teresa looked puzzled at Charlie's frown.

"What?" Teresa asked, setting the pitcher of lemonade back into the center of the table.

By now, the attentions of the Lancer menfolk were on both Teresa and Charlie, and their conversation.

Charlie took another careful bite of the roast beef, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Rebecca had to help her mother this afternoon," Charlie said carefully.

"So you went with some other children, then? Instead of Rebecca?" Murdoch asked, from his end of the table. His question

was not intrusive. Only that of a doting 'grandparent'.

Charlie was going to say yes to the question, then found that she could not.

"I didn't go fishing today," she said, slowly, and took a drink of milk. "Since Rebecca couldn't go."

The four adults at the table were all regarding her with varying degrees of interest, and concern.

"I thought I would wait, you know, until she could go," Charlie said, trying to sound casual.

She was going to, she promised herself, do everything she could to say just the basics, and not lie.

"So you got home at the regular time, then?" Scott asked.

Charlie knew that, if any of them wanted to, they could determine when she'd gotten home, by talking to Maria, or

Jelly either one. So, again, she said, in basic honesty, "No. A little later. I just rode home really slowly."

They were all still looking at her, and Charlie added, "It was such a nice afternoon. Gurth seemed to enjoy it."

There. That was truth. Gurth had appeared to enjoy their leisurely ride home.

"It was a nice afternoon for a ride, sure enough," Murdoch said, in apparent agreement, and Charlie felt

relief wash over her.

"Yes," Charlie agreed. "It was."

She was in the clear, she thought, spearing another bite of the roast beef on her fork. That was, until she looked across the

table, and met Johnny's eyes. Those eyes were full of questions. His expression was puzzled. Charlie felt her face

get all hot again.

L

Charlie went to help Maria with the supper dishes, though she hadn't been told to. Maria tied the over-sized

apron around Charlie's waist. They were in the midst of the chore, when Johnny came into the kitchen.

Maria gestured to the apple pie sitting in the center of the kitchen table.

"Tarta de manzana, Johnny," she said.

Johnny smiled at her. "Si, gracias."

Maria began to cut a large slice of the pie for him, and Johnny said quietly, "When you're done helpin' with the dishes, let's

take a little walk, pequeno."

He said it quietly. Not demanding. But, Charlie knew, by the way her stomach dropped in nerves, that it was not, by

any means, a suggestion. But more, an order.

"I've got homework," Charlie said, in feeble protest. She knew it would do no good.

"A short walk," Johnny said, in answer.

He took the plate of pie that Maria offered to him, and said, "After I eat my pie, I'll be waitin' for ya out by

the corral."

Charlie didn't answer. Her thoughts were swirling. With dread.

"Charlie?" he prompted. "You hear me?"

Charlie nodded, in silent response to his prompt.

"Alright," he said, and left the kitchen.

L


	17. No allies

Charlie dallied with her completion of the dish drying, and then just as slowly the task of putting them away. When that was done, she took a cloth

and went about the kitchen, wiping absent-mindedly.

Maria reached down and took the cloth from Charlie's hands. "Date prisa a lo largo, Senor Johnny," she said briskly.

Charlie didn't know any of those Spanish words, except for the 'Mr. Johnny', part. But, it wasn't too difficult to figure out that

Maria was hurrying her along, so she could go meet Johnny.

She heaved a huge sigh, but Maria only gave a nod towards the door leading outside to the corral.

Charlie went outside reluctantly, and Maria closed the door behind her. Charlie stood by the side of the house for a few minutes. She saw Johnny

come out of the barn, and go over to the corral gate, stepping inside, and running his hand over the back of several of the horses.

He held out his hand, and fed a couple of the horses something from his hand.

She walked slowly over to the corral fence, and stood there quietly. Johnny went on, his back turned, finishing feeding the horse's their treats, and then

he gave Gurth's injured neck a short appraisal.

"It's lookin' good," he said, and Charlie wondered how he'd known she was standing there. She had made hardly any noise, she knew that.

She said nothing in response to his comment about Gurth, and Johnny straightened up to his full height, wiping his hands on

his pants. He turned to look at Charlie, and then came over to the gate. Instead of opening it, he said, "Come on," and lifted her

over the fence.

He set her on her feet on the other side. "Let's walk," he said, briefly, and set off.

Charlie hesitated for a long few moments, and then had to scurry to catch up to him.

Johnny was silent for a time, just walking, and snapping off the tops of the tall grass with his fingers. Charlie began to be

worried. Usually Johnny just came out with things. Charlie had been somewhat prepared for him to lam blast her about

being less than truthful earlier in the afternoon. She wasn't prepared at all for his brooding silence.

"I'm disappointed in ya, pequeno," he said, finally speaking. His voice was still quiet, and he kept walking, not looking

directly at her.

Before she could stop herself, Charlie blurted out, "Why?"

Now, he did turn to her, though he kept walking. "Now, don't do that," he said.

"Do what?" Charlie said.

"That," Johnny said, pointing his index finger at her just for a moment, "That right there. That pretendin' that you have no

idea what I'm talkin' about."

Charlie felt her face flame hot. "I didn't lie to you, Johnny. I never said that I went fishing. And I never said that I didn't go. You-you asked

me if I brought home any fish, and I said no, and then-"

"I know what I said. And I know what you said," Johnny interrupted her torrent of words.

Charlie's face grew even hotter. Johnny looked away and glanced around, and then headed toward a tree, its branches so long

they nearly touched the ground. He lowered himself to the ground and leaned back against the tree.

"Come on over here, and sit down," he said.

Charlie closed the gap between them slowly. She stood there, though, feeling stubborn.

"Sit down," Johnny said, again.

"I don't see why you're so angry at me-" Charlie said, sinking to the ground, and tucking her knees up underneath her bottom.

"I think you do know," Johnny contradicted, and Charlie felt suddenly frightened. He looked so-un Johnny-like. "But, just on the

off-chance that you don't, I'll make sure you know it when we're done talkin'."

Charlie found it hard to swallow suddenly, as Johnny continued talking.

"I asked you about fishin, earlier. I went at it six ways to Sunday, and you never once said that you didn't go. And, I've studied

over it all evenin', and I can't figure out why. So, why don't you tell me?"

"I didn't lie to you-" Charlie said, trying to hold out.

"Not directly, you didn't. There's more than one way to tell a lie, though, pequeno."

Charlie thought that over, studying his face. "I should have just told you that I didn't go," she admitted.

"Right. But, you didn't," he said. "You wanted me to think that you had gone fishin'. I want to know why that is."

"Well," Charlie said slowly, considering. "I-" she hesitated again, and then looked at him, feeling miserable. "I thought

I might have to explain why I was late, if you, or Scott knew that I didn't go fishing."

"Which you did. You took a slow ride home on your horse. Because it was such a nice afternoon. Right?"

When Charlie was quiet, Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Well? Isn't that what you said?"

"Yes, Johnny."

"So, what were you really doin' then?" he asked.

Charlie began to say something, she wasn't certain even just what she was going to say, but at the last second, those

piercing eyes gave her pause. This must the 'Madrid-look' that Teresa had told her about. She couldn't lie in the face of that look.

"I was-visiting someone," Charlie said.

"Who?"

"I took some fruit to that old man," Charlie admitted.

"What old man?"

"The one who bought the horse at the auction, the one with the glass eye," Charlie supplied.

For a long, long few moments, the air crackled between them.

"The one that you were told to stay away from?" Johnny asked.

"I wasn't," Charlie protested. "None of you actually said to stay away from him. Scott said he must like his solitude, and Teresa

said he gave her the willies, and you said he shouldn't be judged because he needed a bath-"

"That's enough," Johnny said sharply, and Charlie trailed off into silence.

"This is sneaky behavior," Johnny said.

"I was trying to be nice," Charlie protested. "Everybody is mean to him, and I thought he might want some fruit-"

"Maybe you thought he might want some fruit, alright, but you've also been determined to find out what his story is. From the

first time you heard about him. Isn't that so?"

Charlie looked at him, feeling mutinous. "Murdoch said I could take the fruit," she said.

"But, he didn't know who you were takin' it to, now did he?"

Charlie was silent, looking away from him, across the pastures. Refusing to answer.

Johnny sighed, and got to his feet. "Well, since you want to stay mum for the most part, you can talk to Scott about it."

Charlie sat where she was, and Johnny said, "Let's go back to the house."

"I'll talk to you, Johnny," Charlie said, her stubbornness fading a good bit. She didn't want to tell Scott. Charlie looked up at him imploringly. "I will!"

Johnny looked thoughtful for a moment, and then came over to where she sat, perched on her knees. He crouched down

beside her, snapping off a blade of grass with his fingers. "I think this is somethin' Scott should know. It was risky for you to

do what you did. You need to face the music, pequeno." He stood up, again, and began to walk, halting to look back at her.

Still she sat, and Johnny said, more curtly, "Charlie. Let's go."

Charlie stood up, and started walking behind him again.

"I was just trying to be nice," Charlie said, to his back.

When Johnny was silent, Charlie subsided into silence as well.

At the gate, he unlatched it, and ushered her thru. "You go find Scott," he said.

"I don't want to," Charlie said. She said it very quietly, but Johnny's eyes flashed.

"If he hears it from me, he'll be more angry with ya. Is that what you want?"

"No."

"Then scoot," Johnny ordered.

L

At the front door, Charlie paused in front of Johnny, looking up at him.

"Uncles are supposed to help kids, aren't they?"

Johnny gave her a look, well aware of being worked. When he was quiet, Charlie went on, "And you're like my uncle, right?"

Johnny opened the door, and put a hand on her shoulder, steering her inside.

"You're nervin' me, kid," he muttered.

"What?" Charlie asked. She hadn't heard him.

"I said-" he hesitated. "Never mind what I said. I know you're workin' me. Quit."

Charlie heaved a heavy sigh, meant to show her discontent with his 'uncling'. Johnny didn't respond in any way to

that sigh, but only left her standing there in the foyer, saying, "Go talk to Scott."

He went off to the kitchen, and Charlie stood there, feeling sorry for herself. Johnny hadn't even given her a backward glance.

He didn't want to help. Charlie felt bereft.

Then, with a burst of inspiration she thought of Teresa. Teresa! She would help smooth the way thru all this. That's what

big sisters did.

Charlie followed the sound of voices, going to peek into the library. Murdoch was there, sitting in the chair behind his

desk, his legs stretched out in front of him. Teresa was standing beside the desk, as well, and the two of them were in

deep conversation, by the looks of it.

"There you are," Murdoch said, looking towards Charlie. "We wondered where you had gotten to."

"I went for a walk with Johnny," Charlie told him, trying to sound casual.

"That's good," Murdoch said, and smiled at her.

Charlie stepped on into the room, looking about. "Where's Scott?" she asked.

"He went upstairs to get something," Teresa said. "He'll be right back."

"Oh. Teresa, can I talk to you?" Charlie said, hurriedly.

"Of course," Teresa said, not moving from her spot.

"I mean, can I talk to you, outside or something?" Charlie amended.

Teresa looked surprised, but said, "Alright. Excuse me, Murdoch."

"You two girls have your chat," Murdoch said, looking amused. Then he added, "Shouldn't you be getting to

your schoolwork soon?" to Charlie.

"Yes. I will," Charlie said, and stepped back, motioning to Teresa.

Teresa came unhurriedly to the doorway of the library. "What is it?" she asked.

Charlie took her hand and pulled her back into the foyer. By now, she had Teresa's full attention.

"What in the world?" Teresa asked.

"Will you help me?" Charlie asked.

"If I can. What is it?"

In a low, nearly whispered tone, Charlie informed Teresa what was going on, and finished with, "Johnny won't help! He

won't talk to Scott or anything!"

Teresa, to her credit, had kept quiet throughout the frenzied explanation, though her eyes had widened with concern.

Now, she said, "Charlie, what were you thinking? To go to his house that way?"

"I know," Charlie acknowledged. She knew she had to allow Teresa a moment of scolding. That was also 'big sister' stuff.

"Will you help me? Please?" Charlie begged.

"What do you want me to do?" Teresa asked. "I don't see-"

"Will you talk to Scott with me?"

"With you?" Teresa specified. "Or for you? Because, I won't talk to him for you, Charlie. You need to tell him yourself-"

"Okay, but will you stay with me while I tell him?"

"What do you think that's going to do?" Teresa pointed out. "He's going to be upset with you, whether you're alone,

or whether I'm there. You just need to get it over with."

Charlie felt like crying. "I thought you would help me for sure," she accused.

"I said I would," Teresa began.

"No, you didn't! You just want to throw me to the lions, just like Johnny does!"

"I don't think comparing Scott to a den of lions is quite right, Charlie," Teresa said.

"I don't care!" Charlie huffed, crossing her arms.

Teresa's gaze turned sympathetic. "Just tell him. You'll feel better, then."

Charlie gave Teresa a look of disbelief. "I don't know how you figure that," she said, in disgust.

Teresa reached out and patted Charlie's shoulder. "Charlie," she began, in a comforting tone.

Charlie jerked her shoulder away. "You make it sound so easy! You're not the one in trouble!"

Teresa looked less sympathetic then. "Well, you brought it on yourself," she said.

Charlie stomped past Teresa, going up the stairs. "You're not being like a sister at all," she accused Teresa,

though she hissed it in a loud whisper. She didn't want Murdoch to overhear.

"Charlie-" Teresa was saying, also in a loud whisper.

Charlie ran on, up the stairs, and to her bedroom. She slammed the door, and then instantly regretted it. That

would bring Scott in a hurry, if he was still upstairs. She stood in the center of the room, holding her breath, and listening.

But no one came to investigate the slammed door.

L


	18. Verdict

Charlie sat at her window seat, looking out. She wasn't sure just how long she sat there. It couldn't have been all

that long. She knew she should go back downstairs. Her school books were down there, in Murdoch's library. She had to practice

her handwriting, and she had arithmetic to finish. But, she dreaded it so, going back downstairs.

Try as she did, Charlie couldn't think of a way out of talking to Scott. Her stomach knotted at the thought of it. He would

get that look on his face, that look that Charlie dreaded. The one that said without words how disappointed he was.

She could hear him now, calling to her from the bottom of the stairs.

Charlie thought about pretending she didn't hear, but that wouldn't solve anything. He would only come up here. Still,

it was worth a try. She sat still, hugging her knees to her chest, as he called for a second time, louder, telling her to come

down.

Charlie stood up, sighing, and then, dragging her feet, she opened her door and went out into the hallway, going

to the head of the stairs.

Scott, at the bottom of the staircase, had his hand resting on the bannister. When she appeared, he

said, "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

Instead of answering, or lying, Charlie said, instead, "Did you want me for something?"

"Yeah, silly girl," Scott said, sounding amused. "Come on down, and get started on your school work."

Charlie hesitated, and then came down the stairs to the mid-way point, where she paused. She clasped her hands together,

behind her back.

"If I come down and get it, can I do it in my bedroom?" Charlie asked, and then amended, "I mean, may I?"

"Why?" Scott asked, looking puzzled.

"I would just like to."

Scott came on up the few stairs to the center, where she stood. "Do you not feel well?" he asked.

"No," Charlie said, feeling even worse at hearing the genuine concern in his voice. and then realized that he'd

thought she meant 'no', she didn't feel well.

Before she could tell him that she wasn't sick, Scott reached out and held his hand to her forehead.

"You don't feel warm," he said.

At the 'paternal' gesture of him doing what he'd just done, checking her for fever, Charlie felt her throat

tighten in emotion.

"I meant no, I'm not sick," Charlie said, nibbling at her lower lip in nerves.

Scott's gaze turned from concerned to contemplative, as he dropped his hand. "Something's wrong, though," he said, more in statement

than in question.

Charlie only looked at him out of those huge brown eyes, not confirming, nor denying.

"Isn't there?" he asked.

Charlie gave the smallest of nods.

"Is it the boys, bothering you? Monte and his brother?" Scott asked.

"No. Well, Monte was just a little, but Jason made him stop. It's not that."

Scott was quiet, and Charlie nibbled at her lip again.

"I've done something," Charlie said, feeling more miserable by the moment.

"Let's go on down, and talk in the library," Scott said, starting down the few steps. "It sounds as though this is a sit-down

sort of talk."

Scott was nearly at the bottom of the stairs again, when he turned, realizing that Charlie had not moved.

"Charlie?" he said, questioningly.

"Is the family still in there?" Charlie asked.

"I think Murdoch might be. Why?"

Charlie quickly thought over the prospect of Murdoch overhearing her confession about going to the shack.

Would it help to have him there, or would it not? Likely, not.

"Can we talk when you come up to read with me before bed?" Charlie asked. Anything to put it off a bit longer.

Scott came back up the stairs again, turning Charlie to head up, with a hand in the center of her back.

"Let's go to your bedroom," he said.

Once at the door of Charlie's bedroom, Scott went in and sat down on the window seat bench. Charlie hesitated, by

the doorway, and then came over slowly, to sit down beside him.

Scott studied her face. "What is it, Charlie?" he asked.

"The boys were being mean to that old man last week, throwing rocks at him-" Charlie began.

As this was a well-known fact to him already, Scott recognized the stalling tactic, and said, "And?"

"Well, don't you think he might need a friend?" Charlie asked, then.

Less patient now, Scott said firmly, "Charlie, just tell me what this is about."

"I gave him some fruit," Charlie said, watching his face for reaction. "Pears and apples."

Scott wrinkled his forehead in puzzlement. "What do you mean, you gave it to him? You saw him?"

"Yes. I saw him."

With a deep sigh, Charlie said, "I was going to leave it in the yard or something, as we walked by on our way

to fishing. But, then, Rebecca couldn't go, so I took it. The fruit, I mean. "And he was nice, Scott! He appreciated it."

For what seemed like a long time, but really was only a moment or so, Scott was quiet, and then he said, "You went

there?" He looked as though he was stunned. And then, just as quickly, his expression turned disappointed. The disappointed

look that Charlie hated.

"I was trying to be a good citizen," Charlie said. "You know, like what Pastor Falls preached about last Sunday-"

"We are not talking about a sermon, Charlie," Scott said, and Charlie subsided.

"We don't know this man," Scott went on. "He could have reacted badly-he could have hurt you."

"He was nice, though, Scott." Charlie reminded him, pushing back the thought of the previous day when the man had, indeed,

reacted badly, hollering and waving his gun around.

"Charlie!" Scott said, sharply, and Charlie subsided into quiet.

"Stop making excuses to justify what you did," Scott said. "It was wrong and you knew it. If you'd thought

it wasn't wrong, you would have come to me, or one of us, and asked permission."

"You would have said no, though," Charlie pointed out, and was sorry as soon as she said it. That comment didn't help

her situation, she could see that by the way Scott's eyes darkened. He was good and mad now, alright.

"I likely would have, that's right," he verified. "There could be reasons why folks around here say what they do about

him. He could be dangerous."

Charlie stayed still, frightened now, by the way that Scott looked.

"And, even if the rumors about him aren't truthful, and he's really alright, not dangerous, you still should not have gone alone," Scott

finished severely.

At least, Charlie thought he was finishing. But, no, he went on.

"You can't be doing things like this, Charlie. We have rules in place for you, to keep you safe. Tearing around doing

whatever you please isn't an option for you. Not anymore."

Charlie bit at her lip, watching him, and Scott sighed, turning to look out the window, just for a moment or so.

The air seemed to crackle, at least to Charlie it seemed so, waiting as she was, for him to speak.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Scott asked, and Charlie blinked at him in surprise, and then felt her

stomach drop even more. This wasn't going to bode well.

She couldn't tell him that she'd just decided to come clean, and confess it all. He would find out that that was not the

case.

"Johnny said to tell you," Charlie said, quietly.

"How did that happen?"

"He asked me about fishing, and I didn't tell him that I hadn't gone, and then Teresa said she'd seen Rebecca-" Charlie let her

voice trail off.

"I see," he said, and between the fury in his eyes, Charlie saw the disappointment flare again.

"Well," he began slowly, "It was showing trust, to let you stay after school, to go fishing with your friends. And, it was

trust to allow you to ride your horse everyday to school. You've taken those two privileges of trust, and broken them. So,

there's not going to be any more staying after school. Not for awhile, anyway. And, instead of being able to ride your horse

alone, one of us will take you to school, and then pick you up again in the afternoon."

Charlie had known that Scott was going to be unhappy with her, that he would hand down a punishment. She'd been

thinking that he might make her write lines.

But this? Losing the opportunity to ride Gurth back and forth each sunny day to school? And not be able to go fishing with

Rebecca and the boys? Or even to play after school with them? She hadn't been expecting those consequences.

Being driven to and from school, after having had the freedom of riding in? Well, it was harsh to her.

"I won't go to his shack anymore," Charlie told him earnestly. "I'll go straight to school, and come straight home

afterwards-please let me keep riding Gurth there-"

"No, Charlie," Scott said.

"But, how long? Before I can ride alone again? Or go with Rebecca and Jason to the pond?"

"I don't know. I can't say right now. I'll have to think about it. We'll have to see how you do," Scott said.

"But-" Charlie began again.

"No wheedling. You've earned this." He gave her a long look, and then said, "After you finish your school work, you

can get some paper from the desk, and I'll give you some lines to write."

Lines, too?

Charlie felt tears welling up in her eyes. She didn't want to cry, but golly.

"Comere," Scott said, then, and gave her wrist a tug, pulling her to her feet, and then positioning her to where

she was standing directly in front of him. He put a hand on each side of her waist, holding her in place.

"This is serious stuff here, Charlie," he said, keeping his voice stern.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said.

"You let your curiousity get the better of you."

"I guess that's right," Charlie admitted.

"I ought to spank you," Scott said. "This is something worthy of a good spanking.'

Charlie swallowed hard, and brushed at her cheek anxiously..

Scott looked her over, and then he sighed, again. "I won't do that," he said, and Charlie felt relief

wash over her in waves.

Then he said, "This time," and to Charlie it sounded ominous.

"If you do anything more, trying to sneak around, and hide what you're doing, well, then, I will. Do you

understand me?"

Charlie nodded miserably.

"Words, Charlie," Scott ordered.

"I understand," Charlie managed, though it was more of a mumble.

"Alright," Scott said. "Go on down now and get your school books. You can sit at the desk and work. I'll come in

and see how your arithmetic looks." He gave her a light pat, and stood up.

Charlie followed him down the stairs, feeling utterly miserable. It felt as though her world was off its axis.

She sat at Murdoch's big desk, doing her sums, and then laid it aside, beginning to copy her handwriting assignment.

She didn't know where the rest of the family had gotten to. She could, every now and then, hear voices. And once, she

heard Johnny's laughter. Charlie felt lonely there, all by herself. Lonesome, and feeling sorry for herself.

Charlie began to sniffle, sitting there, and pausing every few moments to brush at her cheeks.

Teresa came in once, gathering up glasses that had been left setting out.

"Hi," the older girl said, pausing to look at Charlie, sitting there at the desk.

"Hi," Charlie returned, subdued.

Teresa came over closer, and said, very low, "I can tell you've talked to Scott. You have that look. The look a girl

gets when she's been jerked back into line." She tried a smile at Charlie.

Charlie, too miserable to smile back, only shrugged.

"It was bad, huh?" Teresa asked.

"He was so strict with me," Charlie said.

"Murdoch's been strict with me a few times," Teresa shared. "I do understand."

Charlie raised her eyes to Teresa's face.

"I'm sorry I said you weren't like a sister," she told the older girl.

"It's alright. I forgive you," Teresa said, and smiled again.

After that, Teresa sat, while Charlie finished her handwriting, and they talked together, until Scott came to

check over Charlie's arithmetic.

L


	19. Beets arrives

The next morning, riding in the buggy to school with Scott, Charlie was trying to work up her courage. She wanted to talk

to him, but he looked thoughtful, contemplative. Charlie couldn't tell if he was in the mood for

conversation. The night before, after Charlie had taken the extra paper and gone up to her bedroom, she'd begun on the

punishment lines.

"Truthworthiness is shown in a person's actions, not just their words."

That was the line Scott had assigned to her to write. Thirty-five times.

Charlie watched Scott as he drove, the buggy reins slack in his hands.

"Are you coming this afternoon?" Charlie asked him. "I mean, are you the one that's picking me up, too?"

"I'm not sure. It depends on where I'm working at this afternoon. It will be one of us, though. Maybe Teresa."

"Okay," Charlie said. She thought for a minute, and then offered, "I got to line twelve last night. Before you came up

to read with me."

"That's good," he said.

They were within sight of town when Charlie said, "Scott?"

"Hmm?"

"What does it mean if someone says that they have the 'luck of the Irish'?"

"Well, that means they feel lucky, protected."

"Protected by who?" Charlie asked.

"Well," Scott said, considering, "I'm not sure, really. The powers that be, I guess."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead in puzzlement.

"I think what it means basically, is that the Irish consider themselves lucky. That they're exempt from bad

fortune," Scott went on.

"Is that true, though?" Charlie asked, then. "Are they really luckier than other people?"

"No. There's no particular group of people that are luckier than any other. A person usually makes their own luck."

"By working hard?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah," Scott said, turning to look at her. "That's right."

"Oh."

Now at the school, Scott pulled the horse to a halt, as other children were running up, or being dropped off by

wagon or buggy as well.

"One of us will be here this afternoon," Scott said, again.

"Okay," Charlie said.

As she hopped down from the buggy seat to the ground, Scott said, "Here. Don't forget your lunch. It'd be a long time

between breakfast and supper." He held out the lunch tin to her.

Charlie took it, and turned as she heard her name being called. Rebecca was waving from the school house steps.

Charlie waved back, and then gathered her books closer to her chest, looking up at Scott.

"Rebecca's going to ask me to go fishing," Charlie said, and at Scott's raised eyebrow, she went on,

"They already had it planned to go today, I mean."

"Well, when she asks, you'll have to tell her that you can't go." He gave Charlie a semi-stern prompting look. "Right?"

"Right," Charlie said, feeling her face get all warm.

"Alright. Have a good day," he said.

"You, too," Charlie responded, and began to walk towards the school. She paused halfway across the school yard, to

turn and watch Scott, as the buggy trotted away. She sighed. Being in trouble was certainly no fun. No fun at all.

L

Charlie managed to focus on her lessons during the morning. She'd only had a moment to whisper, "I can't," to Rebecca

before the bell was rung. At the first recess, when Rebecca, Jason and a few of the other kids were talking about going

to the pond after school, Rebecca asked Charlie why she couldn't go, and that made Jason, and the others look at her

in curiousity, as well.

"Scott says I can't go," Charlie said, wishing she didn't have to say all of it.

"Well, maybe tomorrow, then?" Rebecca prompted hopefully.

"Not tomorrow, either," Charlie said, and then admitted, "I don't know when I'll be able to go again."

Jason and the boys only looked sympathetic, but they didn't ask any more questions.

When they'd gone on their way, to start a game of kickball, Charlie admitted the rest of it to Rebecca.

Rebecca looked sorry, and said, "Golly. I guess you for sure shouldn't have gone out there, to talk to that

old man."

"He was nice, though," Charlie said, thinking back to the conversation she'd had with the old man.

"Why was he so different than the day before?" Rebecca puzzled.

"I don't know. I wish I did know.'

"Well, we're just going to have to wonder, I guess," Rebecca said.

"Maybe sometime we'll figure it all out," Charlie said, with regret.

L

It was Johnny who came to collect her that afternoon, when school was over. He was in the wagon, and there

were sacks of oats in the back, along with a couple of boxes from the mercantile.

When school was dismissed, and she came out, Charlie saw him sitting there, on the wagon seat. He was eating a piece

of licorice.

Charlie went over and handed her books and lunch tin up to him. Johnny took them and set them on the floor of the wagon.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Hi."

Charlie clambored up into the wagon, and took her spot beside him on the wagon seat. Johnny urged the horse into

action, and they made their way past the school, and towards the road leading to the ranch.

"Beets got here this afternoon," Johnny told her.

"Oh. That's good. It will be nice to see him."

After five or so minutes of quiet, Charlie said, reluctantly, "I guess he'll have to hear about what I did. Right?"

"I don't know, pequeno. I guess if you or Scott tell him, then he will."

"Are you still mad at me?" Charlie asked, sounding forlorn.

Johnny looked at her, and then gave a brief shake of his dark head. "No."

"I thought maybe you weren't, since you said 'pequeno' to me."

"I just want you to be honest. That's all," he said.

"Okay," Charlie said, subdued. "I'm sorry, Johnny."

"I know," he said.

Johnny reached into his front shirt pocket, and pulled out another licorice stick. "Here," he said, handing it to her.

Charlie took it from him, smiling a little. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The afternoon suddenly seemed a bit brighter. At least Johnny wasn't mad at her any longer. That was one good thing.

L

At the ranch, Johnny grabbed a box from the wagon bed, and Charlie took her school things, and followed after him. In the

kitchen, the smell of cornbread and fried apples filled the air.

Maria greeted them, directing Johnny to set the box onto the table. She spoke rapidly in Spanish, and Charlie looked

at Johnny in question.

"She says go and change your clothes, and then come and help," Johnny translated.

Charlie nodded at Maria, and took her school things on into the library. She left them on Murdoch's desk, and then

passed thru the dining room on her way up to her room.

Teresa was arranging flowers in a vase for the center of the dining room table.

Charlie greeted her, and then asked where Mr. Beets was at.

"He and Murdoch went driving," Teresa reported. "I'm not sure just where."

Charlie went upstairs, to her bedroom, and quickly pulled off her shoes, then stripped off her dress, and stockings. Once

ensconced comfortably in a pair of blue jeans and printed blouse, she went back downstairs, her feet bare.

"Did you pick your clothes up?" Teresa asked her, as they passed one another on the stair landing. "Or did you leave them in

a pile, like you usually do?"

"In a pile," Charlie said, glibly, and went on to the kitchen. Maria put her to work there, snapping green beans.

7

Charlie had finished the beans, and was helping shape the bread dough into rolls, when Murdoch came in, with Mr.

Beets.

Charlie was honestly glad to see Beets. She'd gotten where she was accustomed to seeing him on a regular basis.

Mr. Beets was already in his 'work-ready' clothes.

"Charlotte, you are looking well," he said, smiling at Charlie.

"Thank you. You are, too," Charlie said, and Mr. Beets laughed.

"Well, thank you. I'm enjoying my afternoon immensely."

By the time supper was being set onto the dining room table, the family, and Mr. Beets, were preparing to

sit down. Minus Scott.

"Where's Scott?" she asked.

"He'll be along," Murdoch told her.

They were midway thru the meal, when Scott did come in, apologizing, and pausing to shake Mr. Beets' hand.

Before he sat down in his own spot at the table, Scott gave Charlie a brief smile, and ran his hand over the back of

her head. "How are you?' he asked.

"Alright," Charlie said, and after that the conversations around the table continued.

After the meal, Charlie, along with Johnny, helped clear the table of dishes. Maria handed off the coffee pot and cups on a

tray to Johnny, and a chocolate layer cake to Charlie to carry back to the library.

The congenial conversation carried on in the library. Charlie ate her cake, sitting beside Murdoch in the big chair.

When the clock struck eight, Scott said, "You can stay up awhile longer, since there's no school tomorrow."

Since Scott very rarely gave way on the eight o'clock bedtime rule, Charlie recognized the significance. It was after

nine, when Charlie found herself nearly drifting into sleep, leaning against Murdoch's shoulder, but then would jerk

herself awake again.

"Charlie," Murdoch said, shaking her gently. "Go on along up to bed."

Charlie was too sleepy to protest. "Alright," she said, getting to her feet. "Good night," she said, looking at

Mr. Beets.

"Goodnight, Charlotte. We'll ride together tomorrow, won't we?"

"Yes, sir. If you'd like," Charlie agreed.

Murdoch leaned forward to kiss Charlie's cheek. "Goodnight, darling."

Charlie said her goodnights to everyone else, and Scott said, "I'll be up in a few minutes."

Charlie nodded and went up the stairs. She was in her nightgown, when Scott came.

"Sleepy?" he asked her, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Uh huh."

"Do you want to forgo the reading tonight?" Scott asked, tapping the book they'd been reading of late.

"Aw, we've never not read at bedtime," Charlie said. "Not even once, since I came here."

"Well, we can read," Scott said, opening the book to where they'd stopped the evening before. "I just thought you

might be too sleepy."

"I am sleepy," Charlie admitted. "But, it wouldn't feel right somehow, if we didn't read together."

"I'm glad it means so much to you," Scott told her, pleased.

He began to read, finishing four pages, and then pausing, "Let's stop there for tonight, alright? It's getting late for

you to be getting to sleep."

Charlie, leaning against his shoulder, said, "Okay." After a moment she slipped her arm thru his, snuggling closer to him.

"Mr. Beets is looking forward to going riding tomorrow, I think," Charlie said.

"I think you're right," Scott agreed.

As he was tucking Charlie up under the quilt, he looked down at her face. "Tomorrow afternoon, or whenever you're

done with your ride with him, don't forget, you have your lines to finish."

Brought firmly back to earth again, and to the reality of her punishment, Charlie sighed. "When do I have to have them

finished?" she asked.

"What number are you on?" Scott asked.

"Twelve."

"A third of the way, then,' Scott said. "You should be able to finish them tomorrow. Before supper, alright?"

Charlie nodded at him, somberly. "Did you tell Mr. Beets? That you punished me?"

"I told him that you're still adjusting to having rules," Scott said.

"That's all?" Charlie asked, relieved.

"That's all."

L

The next morning, Charlie was up and about early, even having time to go and visit the barn cats before Maria

had finished preparing breakfast. After that, she and Mr. Beets prepared to take their horseback ride together.

Though Gurth's neck was nearly better, Mr. Beets noted the healing cut, and asked about it.

"What happened to his neck, there?" Mr. Beets asked, pointing, as he and Charlie mounted their horses.

As they rode, Charlie told him about Monte and his brother, and how they'd been throwing rocks, and in the process,

Gurth had gotten cut.

"That's a real shame," Mr. Beets said.

"Yes. It is," Charlie said. "And then they told their father that it was only the old one-eyed man, so it didn't really matter."

"Did they? Well, they don't sound like very upstanding young men."

Encouraged by his interest, and his apparent agreement, Charlie shared how Scott had defended her that day, in the church yard, to Monte's

father.

"That makes you feel very happy inside, doesn't it?" he asked.

Charlie nodded.

"I'm glad you and Scott are making such progress with your trust in one another," Mr. Beets said.

He couldn't have said anything that would have made Charlie's situation any more clearer. She hadn't thought of it

that way, really. How Scott had believed her even that very first day, at the railroad station. When she'd told him that she

hadn't taken that fat man's wallet, Scott had believed her. And, she'd sort of broken that belief he'd had in her, by

sneaking around about the old man. She made a mental note to herself to tell Scott that she understood it more now.

"Katherine never would have believed me, or defended me, the way that Scott does," Charlie said.

"I'm glad that things are working out so well for you here," Beets said kindly.

"I like it here. So much," Charlie said. She hesitated. "Even when I get in trouble. I mean, I don't like that part of

it at all. But, I'd still want to be here, even if I was in trouble every day."

"That makes me very happy to hear, Charlotte. That you feel that way about the family here."

Charlie talked on for a bit, about how Teresa was a good sort of 'big sister', and how Murdoch was still letting her

drive the buggy when they went into town together.

"You're enjoying riding your horse still, I can see that," Beets said.

"Yes," Charlie said, and then gave the older man a sidelong look. "I can't ride to school by myself for a while, though, like

I was getting to do. Scott says he doesn't know when he'll let me again."

"Ah," Beets said, in reply, but didn't inquire as to why.

Not wanting to go into details of her punishment, Charlie went on to tell Beets about the unkempt old man on the

edge of town. She told of all the rumors that flew about amongst the children, and even the things that Teresa and Jelly had

told her.

"It was sort of like a mystery," Charlie said. "My friend, Rebecca and I, we wanted to solve it. But, I guess we won't be able

to, at least right away."

"It sounds as though you shouldn't attempt to pursue the mystery," Beets said. "He sounds as though he could be

unstable."

With that statement by Beets, Charlie thought how most grownups were a lot alike, really.

L


	20. Awaited book

Later in the afternoon, Beets and Johnny set off for the fishing spot at the creek. Charlie would have liked to have gone, as well, but

Maria set her to work in the kitchen. Charlie realized that she didn't mind that so much, though. Once she was excused from that

chore, she went outside to cuddle with the cats. She took the latest novel that she'd been reading on her own.

She heard Teresa calling to her, and stood up, brushing the hay from her overalls.

"Here I am," she said, going to the door of the barn.

"Do you want to go with me to the Stone's?" Teresa asked.

"To do what?"

"I need to drop some things off that I borrowed, and then just to visit for awhile," Teresa said.

"It doesn't sound like much fun to me," Charlie said.

"I won't stay that long," Teresa promised. "And we'll go and get some ice cream, too. It'll be fun to ride in together."

"Can we go to the mercantile?" Charlie asked.

"If you want to. Why?"

"I want to buy something. Maybe. If I have enough money."

"Alright. Well, I'm leaving in about a half an hour, so that we'll be back in plenty of time for supper. Murdoch won't like it

if we're late getting back."

Charlie ran up to her room, gathering the few coins that she had put away in her bureau drawer. There wasn't much. Only

about thirty cents. She thought she might ask Teresa if she could borrow some money. Then, thinking better of that

idea, she went in search of Scott. She found him at the far side of the pasture, with two of the newer ranch hands. She waited, going

to stand beside Scott, while the men continued their conversation.

Scott put out a hand, onto the back of her head, in a gesture of greeting. Then, after he'd told the other two men that

he would talk to Murdoch about the eye infections in the cattle, he turned to look down at Charlie.

"Hey, there," he said. "You looking for me?"

"Yes. I wanted to ask you something."

Scott began pulling off his fencing gloves. "Alright."

"Teresa asked if I wanted to go with her to the Stone's, and then maybe to get some ice cream," Charlie said, leading into

what she wanted to ask him.

"Well, that's nice," he said.

"Yes. And, I was wondering if I could have some money."

"I imagine so," Scott said, and began to pull some coins from his pocket. "Don't be eating too much candy, though, especially if

you're eating ice cream, too."

Instead of taking the two nickels from his hand, Charlie said, "Well, it's not for candy. I mean, that's not what I want the money

for."

One of the hands, walking nearby again, after gathering up fencing materials, said, "Talk to you later, Scott."

Scott turned and said, "Alright. Thanks, Ben."

Then, he turned back to Charlie again. "Well, what for then?"

"That book at the mercantile. The one I told you about? The Princess and the Goblin? I was wondering if I could buy it?"

"How much was it?" he asked.

"Seventy-five cents. I have thirty."

"Hmm," Scott said, looking thoughtful. Then, he sorted thru the coins in his pocket again, and handed her a fifty-cent piece. "There you go."

"Thank you!" Charlie said, smiling up at him.

"I hadn't thought of that," Scott said, and Charlie looked at him, puzzled.

"Thought of what?" she asked.

"About an allowance for you."

"What's an allowance?" Charlie asked, curious.

"Money you get every week, pocket money. Let's see," he said, concentrating, "I don't know what's really right for kids

your age, but let's say, thirty cents a week. Every Saturday. How's that sound to you?"

"Thirty cents every week? Just because?" Charlie asked, her face lit up. "That sounds really good!"

"Well, not 'just because'," Scott corrected. "It's an allowance, and you get it every week, but on the condition that

you do your chores, on time and correctly. And, anything extra that you're asked to do, as well. If you don't keep up your

end of the deal, then no allowance that week. Alright?"

Charlie nodded. "Yes, Scott!"

"The weekly money, though, that's it," Scott cautioned. "So, if you spend it all, then that's it, until the next week. If there's something

you want to buy that costs more, then you need to save for it. You won't get any extra handed to you, like I did today, unless it's for

something important. Okay?"

Charlie nodded again. "Yes. Okay. Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome. I should have thought of it before. You need to have your own spending money."

Charlie wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him impulsively. Scott returned her hug, and then brushed

her hair back from her face.

"So, you're leaving soon then?" he asked. "With Teresa?"

"Yes, She wants to go soon, so we won't be late getting back for supper. She doesn't want Murdoch to get upset

with her."

Scott smiled a bit at that comment, and said, "Alright. Well, I'll see you at supper, then."

L

Once in town, Charlie asked Teresa to drop her off at the mercantile.

"I can get my book, and then I'll walk to the Stone's to meet you there," Charlie told her.

Teresa gave Charlie a scrutinizing look. "I don't think that's a good idea, Charlie," she said.

"Why not?" Charlie asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Because of what happened this week. You going off to talk to that man-"

"I'm not gonna do that today, Teresa!" Charlie protested. "I won't! Not after what Scott said!"

"What did Scott say?" Teresa asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

Charlie felt her face get hot, embarrassed. "Well, never mind what he said. But, anyway, I'm not going to go

out there. I just want to get my book, and then I'll come to the Stone's. I promise."

"Well, alright," Teresa said. "It is getting late, and since you don't want to visit there long, I'll be ready to go by the

time you get over there. Then we can head on home."

"Don't forget, you said we could get ice cream," Charlie reminded her.

L


	21. Prisoner in question

Charlie found her much-wanted book, right where she'd seen it at the last time she'd been in the mercantile. Mr. Seevers

took her money, leaving her with three cents in change. He was a jovial, friendly-sort of man, asking Charlie about how the

family was. It made Charlie feel good inside, being asked about the Lancers that way. As if she was one of them.

She refused the wrapping of her book, and tucked it under her arm, depositing the three cents into her overalls pocket.

Setting off in the direction of the Stone's home, Charlie thought she'd take just a minute or so to stop at the jail, to say

hello to Mr. Val.

The jail door was wide open, and there was a flurry of dust flying out as Charlie stepped up.

"Ugh," Charlie said, covering her nose. Despite that, she sneezed from the dust.

"Well," Val said, coming thru the doorway, broom in hand. "Hello there, Just-Charlotte. How are you today?"

"Fine," Charlie said, and sneezed again, waving at the dust in the air.

"Sorry about that," Val said, smiling at her.

"It's okay," Charlie said. "You're really stirring up the dust."

"Well, I didn't have much choice," Val said. "My best helper hasn't come 'round lately, to do the sweeping up." He tugged at

her braid in teasing.

"I haven't been by in awhile, have I?" Charlie asked, in agreement.

"No, ma'm, you haven't. I've seen you, riding by on your way to the schoolhouse. Stop over one day after school to

visit."

"I'll have to ask whoever picks me up," Charlie said, and when Val raised his eyebrow in question, Charlie went on, "I can't

ride in by myself for a bit."

"I see," Val said, his brow still up. "Been up to some mischief, have you?"

"It wasn't really mischief," Charlie defended herself.

"Well," Val said, "You might as well come in, and visit."

Charlie followed him thru the open jail door. The air inside was stifling with the heat.

"Coffee?" Val asked her, teasing, as he went to the coffeepot to fill his cup.

"No," Charlie said. "It's too hot for coffee."

"Never too hot for coffee," Val denied.

A sound of a cough from the cell area in the back had Charlie looking at Val curiously.

"Do you have a prisoner?" she asked.

"I do."

Charlie went to peer towards the back. "Is it a bank robber?" she asked.

"Nope."

"A killer?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Nope," Val said again, amused at her wild assumptions.

"What kind of a crime did he commit then?" Charlie asked.

"Lollygagging."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead, thinking he was teasing, but not certain.

"Huh?" she asked.

"Vagrancy," he clarified.

Charlie knew she'd heard that word, but couldn't place the meaning of it. "Is that bad?" she asked.

"Not too serious. More annoying," Val answered, and when he saw Charlie still looking confused, he added, "It means

being in a place too long, with no purpose for being there. Bothering folks."

"Oh," Charlie said, and took a few more steps towards the cell area.

"Come on away from there," Val ordered, and Charlie sighed, obeying. She sat on his desk, while he sat in his chair, and

they talked for a few minutes, sharing some of the licorice that Val kept. Just when Charlie knew she had to be heading to the Stone's to meet with Teresa, there

was a hollering from the back.

"Hey, there!" And, again, "Sheriff!"

Val sighed, and stood up, heading to the back. Charlie seized her opportunity, and followed after him.

"What is it now?" Val asked, sounding irritated.

"I need a drink," came the crackly voice.

When Charlie stepped up beside Val, she couldn't believe who she saw in the cell. It was the old man!

"Alright," Val said, turning to go back to his office area. "Water coming right up."

"It's whisky I'm needing," the old man called to Val's disappearing back.

"It's water you'll get!" Val hollered back.

Left alone with him, Charlie knew she had to make her time count. She was curious as to why he'd been arrested for

hanging around somewhere that he wasn't wanted. Maybe he'd been going thru the trash again. She took a step or so

closer to the cell door. The man, though dressed the same as before, seemed to have a different demeanor. Charlie couldn't place

just what it was exactly.

"I hope you liked the pears," she said.

The old man went to sit on the cot in the cell, his back to her.

That was strange. Charlie stepped to the door itself, lacing her fingers around the bars. "Did you?" she asked.

Silence.

"Did your dogs come back?" she tried then.

"What are you jawin' at me about?" the old man said.

Charlie realized that he'd limped badly as he walked to the cot.

Why was he being so hostile? When she'd taken the fruit to his shack, he'd been mysterious in his answers, but

not unfriendly. Now, he was sounding like the previous time, when he'd threatened to turn his dogs on she and Jason and Rebecca.

Charlie went a few steps to the left, so she could see his face again.

"Did you finish your carving?" she asked.

"Don't know what you're talkin' about," the old man said, and spit a stream of tobacco into the corner.

Val came back at that moment, a cup of water in his hand. He unlocked the cell door, stepping in to hand the cup to

the old man, who swallowed the water in one gulp, handing back the cup to Val.

Val relocked the door.

"No more hollering, now," Val told him.

"When are you gonna let me out of here?"

"Tomorrow morning. You know that, already," Val said.

The old man narrowed his eyes at Val, and then let his gaze drift to Charlie. He looked at her so intently that Charlie

felt nervous. And, she was nearly positive that one of his eyes didn't move!

"Come on along, Charlie," Val said.

Charlie gave the man one last look, beginning to follow Val.

"Going to be traipsing by my place soon?" the old man asked. "You and those two friends of yours?"

Charlie paused, staring at him. Why was he asking about she and Rebecca and Jason? When he acted as though he

didn't recall two days ago, when she'd brought him fruit, and he'd talked to her. Sparingly, true, but he had talked in a nice

way. In that lilting voice. That was another thing! His voice now didn't have that musical quality to it. It was abrupt, rough.

"No," she said.

"That's too bad, I reckon. My dogs are waitin'," he went on, and Charlie felt a shudder go down her back.

"Charlie," Val said, his tone curt. "Now."

Charlie scurried to him, and he ushered her ahead of him, back towards the office.

Val kept walking, going outside to sit down on the bench. "What's he talking about?" he asked Charlie.

"He means Rebecca, and Jason and me. We were walking in front of his shack on our way back from fishing, and he-" Charlie

hesitated. She didn't want Scott or any of the other Lancers, to know about the gun being waved around, or the angry

demeanor of the old man that day. Scott would wonder even more why she'd taken the risk to walk out there with fruit.

"He what?" Val asked.

"He was hollering," Charlie settled for saying.

"Well, you steer clear of him. You and your friends, both. Hear me?"

Charlie found she still felt a tad frightened by the way the man had said what he had, about how the dogs would

be waiting.

"Yes, Mr. Val," she said, meeting his eyes.

Val studied her, his forehead crinkled. "Why do I get the feeling there's a bit more to this story?"

L


	22. Wanted swing, unwanted questions

When Val asked her that, about whether there was more to the story concerning the old man, Charlie settled for a shrug,

and said, "He's interesting."

"Interesting or no, he's got some concerning behavior," Val said. "Don't go round him, you hear?"

"I hear," Charlie said.

Val was watching her, and the look in his eyes was speculative, discerning. As if he wasn't taking her at her word.

"I do," she insisted.

"Alright," Val said.

"I better go meet Teresa," Charlie said then, and gathered up her book to leave.

"Tell Scott and Johnny to come into town and have a beer with me," Val told her.

Charlie said she would do that, said goodbye, and began her walk to the Stone's. It wasn't far. Just a couple of streets over.

When she got to the imposing white house that the Stone family resided in, Charlie lifted the heavy wooden knocker on the

front door.

A trim young woman, wearing a white apron answered the knock.

When Charlie told her she was there to meet Teresa, she was ushered inside, and to a large parlor. Charlie had not seen

this room when she and Teresa had visited here before. It was a fine room, with elaborate furnishings and paintings that looked

as though they'd been painted by a toddler. Charlie found she much preferred paintings such as the ones that hung in Murdoch's library,

the ones he and others had painted, that were of real-life things. Houses, or ships, or people. These paintings were like the ones that

Katherine had in her house. They looked like giant blobs of color. Charlie thought they were horrible.

Teresa was sitting, with a cup of tea, perched in a chair that looked very uncomfortable. Lucy's older sister, and her mother

were also sitting there. And Lucy, as well, wearing an extremely fancy dress, and her black shoes, shiny as always.

"There you are," Teresa said, when Charlie was shown into the room. She sounded, Charlie thought, as if she'd been

waiting for hours.

"Yes. Here I am," Charlie said.

"Come and sit down," Teresa said, gesturing to the chair beside her.

After that, Lucy was saying hello, and Mrs. Stone was asking Charlie if she would like some cake or cookies.

"No, thank you," Charlie said, sitting down where she was instructed.

As Mrs. Stone instructed the maid to bring more tea, Teresa took the opportunity to say, in a low tone, "It's about

time you got here. Where have you been?"

"I wasn't long," Charlie protested.

Teresa shook her head and looked decidedly cross.

"I went to say hello to Mr. Val," Charlie said, low.

"Let's go up to my bedroom," Lucy was saying to Charlie. "We can play dolls."

Charlie only just managed not to roll her eyes, and give a horrified look back. Dolls?

"Come on," Lucy persisted, tugging at Charlie's arm.

"Aren't we supposed to be heading home soon?" Charlie asked, looking to Teresa.

"You can go for a few minutes," Teresa said.

Her look to Charlie was pointed, and she still looked peeved.

Charlie got to her feet reluctantly, and went upstairs to Lucy's room. It was decorated as elaborately as

the downstairs parlor. With two more of the blob paintings.

Lucy got busy, pulling out an immense collection of china dolls, all with numerous changes of clothes. Charlie mostly just

sat, watching as Lucy chose one dress for this doll, and then another.

"Do you have this many dolls?" Lucy asked.

"I don't have any dolls," Charlie said.

Lucy's eyes widened. "Why? Won't the Lancer's get you any?"

"They would, if I asked, I suppose. I don't really care for dolls," Charlie said bluntly.

"Oh." Lucy masked her disappointment. "Well, what would you like to do instead?"

"We could go outside," Charlie suggested, thinking of the swing that was in Lucy's yard. She'd loved swinging on it

when she'd been here the day of the horse auction.

"It's hot outside," Lucy said, in mild protest, but got up, and the two girls went downstairs, and thru the front hall.

"We're going outside," Lucy called into the parlor.

Once outside, at the swing, the girls took turns, and when it was Charlie's turn, she leaned back, and closed her eyes,

feeling as though she were flying.

"I love your swing," she told Lucy.

"You should tell the Lancer's that you want your own swing," Lucy said.

"I might," Charlie said. It would certainly be fun to have her own swing, like this one.

"Then they'll have to do it for you," Lucy said, decidedly.

"They wouldn't have to do it," Charlie said, stressing the word 'have'. "But, they might."

"If I want something, I just tell my father that I want it," Lucy said.

"And he just does it?" Charlie asked. "Whatever you want?"

"Mostly, he does," Lucy said, sounding satisfied.

The girls were sitting at the iron outdoor table, where the Stone's sometimes sat in the evenings. When Charlie caught

Lucy looking at her in a questioning sort of way, she asked, "Why are you looking at me that way?"

"What's it like?" Lucy asked.

"What's what like?" Charlie asked, confused.

"To be rich."

Charlie hesitated, and Lucy talked on, "I mean, my father isn't poor, but I mean, what's it like to have as much

money as you do?"

Charlie nearly laughed, thinking of the three cents in her pocket. "I spent all my money on my book today," she shared, gesturing

at the book on the table.

"Not that," Lucy said, waving her hand. "I mean your money. The money that's just yours. The millions."

Ah, now she understood. And, yet, she didn't.

"I'm not rich," Charlie said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under Lucy's curious gaze.

"You mean, it's not true? You aren't going to inherit money from your grandfather's gold mine?"

Charlie stood up, and said, "Teresa and I should be getting home."

Lucy looked startled, then regretful. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Charlie."

"You didn't. I just don't like talking about it."

"Why?" Lucy asked, genuinely puzzled. "If I was going to be a rich heiress, I'd talk about it all of the time."

"I just don't like to-" Charlie said, and then started towards the house.

Lucy caught up with her, apologizing. "Are you mad with me? I didn't know you wanted it to be a secret-"

When Charlie was silent, Lucy looked as though she was going to cry. "Please don't stop talking to me, or stop being

my friend, Charlie!"

"I won't stop talking to you," Charlie said shortly.

"I was just curious. Wondering what it was like to be able to have anything you want, because you're rich," Lucy persisted.

"It's not like that," Charlie said, coming to a stop, and turning to look at Lucy. "I mean, I can't. I don't have any of the

money. It's only for when I'm older. You know."

"Oh," Lucy said. "Well, that doesn't sound very fair. I mean, if it's your money, why can't you spend some of it now? If you

wanted to, I mean?"

The door opened, and Teresa came out, followed by Lucy's older sister, and mother.

"Ready, Charlie?" Teresa asked. "We need to be getting home."

Thinking she should say that she was more than ready to leave, Charlie settled for a nod. "Yes. Bye, Lucy."

"Goodbye," Lucy said, still looking as though she was going to cry.

"What's wrong, dear?" Mrs. Stone asked Lucy, as Teresa and Charlie walked to the waiting buggy.

Teresa waited until they were both seated in the buggy, and she had picked up the reins, before she

said, "Did you and Lucy have an argument?"

"No."

"Well, she looked upset. As though she were going to cry."

"Lucy cries a lot," Charlie said. "At school she cries at least once a week."

"Well, what happened?" Teresa persisted.

"I didn't do anything wrong," Charlie said.

"I didn't say you did. I'm only asking what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Teresa sighed. "Goodness, Charlie."

"What?" Charlie demanded, looking at the older girl.

"Nothing," Teresa sighed again. "Do you want to stop for ice cream?"

Charlie shrugged. "I don't know."

"We don't have to. Maria's probably making several desserts for tonight."

"Okay," Charlie said, focusing her gaze to the landscape to her right.

Teresa made an irritated sound. Sort of a 'humph'.

Silence reigned then, for a few miles.

"What is it?" Teresa asked again. "You're upset, too. Did Lucy say something unkind to you?"

"No."

Silence again.

"You can talk to me, Charlie. I'm a good listener," Teresa said.

"It's nothing important," Charlie said.

"It is important, if it's upset you," Teresa denied.

Charlie shook her head, and Teresa gave up the attempt to coax the problem out of her.

L

Once back at the ranch house, Charlie hopped out of the buggy, and went off to feed her horse some apples, still carrying

her new book.

It was later, when Charlie had found a tree to sit under, with Gurth standing nearby. She dived into reading her new

book, and in doing so, forgot all about Lucy and her questions for a time.

She heard a horse approaching, and turned to see Scott riding up, accompanied by another ranch hand.

She stood up to greet him, keeping her place in the book with a finger.

"Hey there, kiddo," Scott greeted her.

"Hi, Scott!"

Scott and the other man conversed for a couple of minutes, and then he rode on. Scott surveyed her from atop his horse.

"You got your book?" he asked Charlie.

"Yes," Charlie said. "It's really good so far."

"Easy, or you'll have it all read in one day," Scott said, giving her an affectionate smile.

"Want a ride up to the house?" Scott offered.

Charlie nodded, and went to hold her hand up to him. Scott clasped it, and gave Charlie a pull up, to sit behind him.

"How was your trip to town?" he asked, putting the horse into motion.

"Alright."

"Did you and Teresa get your ice cream?"

"No. We decided not to," Charlie said.

"Oh."

"I went to see Mr. Val," Charlie offered up. "He said to tell you to come and have a beer with him."

"I bet he was glad to see both of you."

"Teresa went on to the Stone's. I stopped at the jail by myself, after I got my book," Charlie said.

"I see."

"He had a prisoner," Charlie shared. "Guess who it was?"

"I couldn't guess."

"The old man. The one that I took the fruit to."

Scott did a half head-turn, to look back at Charlie. "Yeah?"

"Uh huh. Val said he was lolly-gagging. Being a vagrant."

"Ah."

"I just wanted to tell you," Charlie said. "I didn't want you to think that I did anything wrong."

Scott hesitated, thinking that comment over for a moment or so, and then said, "Well, that's good, then. That you

told me."

Charlie pressed her cheek against Scott's back, tightening her arms around his waist.

"Do you think I could have a swing?" she asked.

"A swing?"

"Yes. You know, a swing. That you can make go really high. Like the one that Lucy has."

"I don't think I've ever seen the swing at the Stone's, but I imagine we can fix one up for you," Scott said.

Charlie hugged his waist more tightly. "Thank you, Scott. I would really like it."

"We'll get one made up for you," he promised.

After a few minutes of quiet between them, as the house and out-buildings came into sight, Charlie

said, "Do lots of folks in town know about me?"

"Well, yes," Scott said, turning back to give her a smile. "I mean, you've been here for months-"

"I don't mean that. I meant, do lots of them know about the gold mine money? That I'm going to inherit?"

"No. Not that I know of," Scott said. "There's no reason for folks to know. That's not their business."

"Exactly what I think," Charlie said, very low, almost in a mutter.

"What?" Scott asked.

"I said, that's exactly what I think, too," Charlie said, louder.

By now, nearly to the barn, Scott thought that Charlie sounded strange. Both in her tone of voice, and in her comments.

He lowered Charlie to the ground in front of the corral, and then dismounted himself. He began to unsaddle, and

when Charlie began walking to the house, Scott said, "Hold up a minute."

Charlie looked back to him. "I was going to take my book inside, up to my bedroom," she said.

"In a few minutes. I want to talk to you some more."

Charlie walked back over, as Scott began to uncinch the saddle.

"Why are you asking me that, about folks knowing about the inheritance?" Scott asked.

"Because Lucy asked me about it."

Scott paused, laying a hand on the saddle horn, and turning to look at Charlie.

"She did?" Scott asked.

At Charlie's nod, Scott's forehead wrinkled in concern. "How did that conversation come about?" he asked.

"She asked what it was like to be rich, to be able to have whatever I want," Charlie said bluntly.

Still puzzled, Scott prompted, "And?"

"And I told her that I couldn't, and she said that if she had millions of dollars like me, that she thought I could

have whatever I wanted."

"Hmm," Scott said, pulling the saddle off, and keeping his eye on Charlie. Someone else, that didn't know Charlie as well

as he did, might not have been able to tell that the little girl was bothered. But, Scott did know her well, and he was able to

judge her moods.

"Want to put him in the pasture for me?" he asked Charlie.

Charlie nodded, taking the reins and leading the horse towards the pasture gates. Scott, meanwhile, put the saddle away, and then

a few moments later, when Charlie came, carrying the reins, he took them from her and hung them up.

Outside the barn again, in the sunshine, Scott stood, looking down at Charlie.

"Did you tell some of the other kids at school?" he asked. "Maybe that's how Lucy heard about it."

"No," Charlie said, shaking her head vigorously. "I haven't told anybody. I didn't want any of the kids here to know."

"Hmm," Scott said, again. "Well, I haven't said anything to anyone in town. Well, besides Val. And, he wouldn't repeat it

to anyone else."

"I don't like people knowing it. They look at me differently afterwards."

"Do you think Val does that?" Scott asked.

"No. He doesn't. But, kids will."

Scott looked thoughtful, and then said, in a quiet suggestion, "Maybe I could speak to Lucy's father, and he could have a talk

with her. Impress upon her that it's not something that you want others to know."

Charlie was quiet, solemn, and Scott asked, "Would you like me to do that?"

"Yes, thank you," Charlie said, still seeming subdued.

"I don't imagine that Lucy meant any harm by what she said," Scott said, trying to comfort Charlie. "She probably just

wasn't thinking about how her words would sound."

"Maybe so," Charlie said, in agreement.

"You have the right. though," Scott told her, "To not want folks to know, if that's what you choose. I'm not certain how

Lucy learned of it all, but I'll see if I can't contain it."

"Alright," Charlie said.

Scott ran a hand down the back of her head. "How about a smile?" he asked her.

Charlie gave him a faint smile.

Having given her his support on this issue, Scott decided he'd best point out the other side of the coin.

"It's not the end of the world, though, if someone does know of it," Scott told her. "You can just say you don't

want to talk about it, and that's the end of it."

"I tried that with Lucy. She acted as though she was going to start bawling."

Scott was thinking that statement over, when Charlie abruptly changed the subject. "When do you think you and Johnny

might be able to fix up my swing?" she asked.

L


	23. Figuring it out

That evening at the ranch house passed enjoyably. Beets planned to stay thru lunch the following day, on Sunday, and leave

on an afternoon stage.

After church, some of the children from school gathered outside to talk, while the adults did their visiting, as well.

As an afternoon picnic was planned for the following day, to be after school, at the edge of town in a grove of trees,

Charlie felt discouraged, knowing she was not going to be able to participate.

Talking of whose mother could pack what food began, and then games that could be played.

Sitting at the edge of the group, Charlie was quiet. Rebecca noticed, and said quietly, "You can't stay after school for it? You're

sure that Scott won't let you?"

"I'm mostly sure that he won't," Charlie said.

"Well, maybe he will," Rebecca encouraged.

Still new to the whole family dynamic thing, Charlie asked her, curiously, "If your father says no, can he change his mind?"

"Well," Rebecca considered. "No. Not usually," she admitted.

"I don't think Scott will, either," Charlie said.

One of the other kids, a boy, Samuel Walton, said that he could run home after school was dismissed, and get his family's

ice cream freezer. He recruited another of the boys to help him carry things, and said that they could crank the freezer, and

have ice cream at the picnic.

Charlie sighed, and Rebecca heard. She squeezed Charlie's hand in sympathy.

As parents began to call to their children now, including Murdoch calling to Charlie, she stood up, and Rebecca

walked with her towards Murdoch's buggy. "Ask Scott if you can come," she encouraged Charlie quietly.

They were within what might be hearing distance now, so Charlie only nodded at Rebecca. Some of the other children

were calling out goodbyes to Charlie, including Jason, and she waved.

Mr. Beets was bound to climb into the buggy to ride home with Murdoch. Teresa had ridden in with them, but

was being squired home by her suitor, Don Johnson.

"Do you want to squeeze in with us, darling?" Murdoch was asking Charlie, as he prepared to join Beet's on the

buggy seat.

Scott was just walking up now, and Charlie said, "I think I'll ride with Scott, but thank you." She looked to Scott.

"Can I? Ride with you?"

"Of course you can," he said.

So Scott mounted, and then gave Charlie a hand up. They were heading along out of town, when Murdoch went around them, at a good clip,

with a merry wave from both he and Mr. Beets.

"They're like two young men when they're together," Scott asked, sounding amused.

"They're great good friends now, aren't they?" Charlie asked.

"It seems that they are."

Charlie subsided into thought, and when Scott asked, "What's that sigh for?" Charlie was startled.

"What?" she asked.

"I asked what the deep sigh was all about," Scott repeated.

Charlie, who didn't know that she had sighed at all, let alone loudly enough to be heard, shrugged, and then realized

that since she was behind him on the horse, he wouldn't be able to see.

"I was just thinking about something," Charlie admitted.

"Ah," he said.

Charlie wondered if she should wait until later to approach her request to Scott, or whether she should even make

the request at all.

It had only been three days since Scott had given her the punishment. Three days since he'd said she would

not be allowed to ride Gurth to and from school, or go fishing with the kids.

But, Charlie argued with herself, this wasn't fishing. It wasn't walking past, or going anywhere near the old man's shack. It

was a picnic, right there in town, just down from the where the church was. Maybe that would cause Scott to put a

different light onto it.

"Scott," she began slowly, "I want to ask you something, but it's hard to ask-"

"You can ask me whatever you need to, Charlie," Scott said. "I hope you know that."

"Some of the kids are having a picnic tomorrow," Charlie began. "And everybody's supposed to bring food

and things-"

"For lunch?" Scott said, assuming. "Well, ask Maria to help you figure something out to take to share."

"Not for lunch," Charlie said, correcting his assumption that the picnic was during the school day. "It's after school."

When Scott shifted slightly in the saddle, giving Charlie a glance, and then turned forward again, and was silent,

Charlie added quickly, "It's right after school. At the grove of trees just past the church. And one of the boys is

bringing an ice cream freezer."

"May I stay for it?" Charlie asked him.

"Charlie," Scott said, and he sounded sort of tired as he said it.

"You, or one of the family, has to come get me anyway," Charlie reminded him. Unneccesarily, Charlie knew, but she

couldn't seem to stop her run-on tongue. "You could just come a little bit later. To get me, I mean."

"You are on restriction, and I know that you remember that you are," Scott said. "So, I'm not certain just why

you're asking me this."

Charlie felt her hope thud.

"I would be right there in town, though," Charlie said. "I would only walk from school to the grove. That's all. I

wouldn't go anywhere else!"

"No, Charlie," Scott said, sounding very firm. It was said so firmly, in fact, that it caused Charlie to stay quiet for the

rest of the ride home. Quiet though she was, that didn't mean her thoughts weren't hopping around, all over the place.

She wasn't so upset that she felt like crying, or anything. But, she did sulk. It didn't seem as though Scott was

being fair. At all.

At the house, Murdoch and Mr. Beets had already parked the buggy, and were standing there, next to it, talking.

As yet, Teresa and her suitor had not yet arrived.

Once Scott had reined his horse in, instead of waiting for him to offer her his arm, Charlie slid to the ground without

his help. It wasn't as easy as she'd thought it would be. She had to rest her hand on the back of the saddle, and

hop quickly, without using Scott for any support at all.

She managed it, though.

Scott took notice of her quick descent, as well. He gave Charlie a long look, and then dismounted himself.

Charlie knew she only had a few minutes before lunch was called. She looked up at Scott. He was already

gazing at her. He looked questioning. As if he were studying her, Charlie thought. And he looked disappointed, too.

Charlie hated that.

She turned her face away, then back again. Scott was still standing there, his eyes fixed on her, looking all disappointed, and

annoyed.

Charlie tossed her head, and began to walk towards the house. "Unfair," she muttered, under her breath.

"Charlie," Scott said, first quietly, and then louder, harsher, "Charlie!"

Charlie stopped, and turned around, noticing that Murdoch and Beets had both had their attention caught by Scott.

"Come back over here," Scott ordered, quieter now, but sternly.

Charlie walked back over to where he stood. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Murdoch and Beets were talking

again, though both occasionally looked her way.

Still holding the reins in one hand, Scott said, "You think I'm being unfair?"

It might have sounded as though he was open to discussion, by the words that he chose. But, Charlie knew that he

was not open to discussion, but was more requesting her to restate what she'd hissed at him under her breath.

Charlie didn't answer his query. That would be foolish. To repeat what she'd said.

"Answer me," Scott insisted.

"Yes," Charlie said, bravely.

Scott regarded her intently for another long moment. "Well, I'm sorry you feel that way. But, what you did was serious. You

deserve consequences for it. I thought we had an understanding about all this."

"We did," Charlie said. "I mean, we do. I was just thinking that you might make a sort of an exception for tomorrow."

"You thought that, huh?" he asked.

"I was hoping," Charlie amended.

Maria had come outside, and was ringing the dinner bell, just as Teresa and her beau came into view in his buggy.

Murdoch and Mr. Beets had begun walking towards the house now.

"I'm not going to make an exception for tomorrow," Scott said, with finality, though he spoke quietly.

"Alright," Charlie said, grudgingly. After all, what else could she say? She'd tried, and failed. Might as well go and eat

Maria's lunch, and then try to enjoy the rest of the day.

With Scott's next words, though, Charlie saw that enjoyment of the rest of the day going awry.

"After lunch, you need to talk with Beets for a bit, before he leaves, and then after that, I want you to go and

sit in your bedroom," Scott told her.

Charlie looked at him, aghast. "Why do I have to sit in my room?" she asked.

"I want to you to rethink over what we talked about the other night. About trust being broken. And about why you

got punished."

"I know why-" Charlie began. She wanted to ride her horse in the sunshine, not spend the afternoon in a stuffy bedroom.

"I thought you knew why, but we must have some things to clear up about it, since three days later, you think I'll change

my mind."

"I was just hoping, Scott!" Charlie protested. "That's all!"

By now, Teresa was headed their way, her arm hooked thru her young man's.

"Hello, Scott," Don said, and put out his hand. Scott shook hands. Then as they all walked towards the house, Scott

said quietly, to Charlie, "Mind what I say, and we'll talk about it later."

L

During lunch Charlie was mostly quiet, speaking when spoken to. Conversations at the table were many and animated. The more

that Teresa's beau was around, the more he talked the next time.

Johnny, who'd stayed home and not attended church services, was involved in talking to Beets and to the young Don, as

was Scott.

Once the meal was over, Teresa prepared to take a walk with Don. Mr. Beets pushed his chair to

the table, and said, "Could we take a walk together, as well, Charlotte?"

Charlie nodded, and headed off with Mr. Beets. The longer she stayed walking with him, the less time she would

have to spend in her room. Then, she felt guilty for thinking such a thing. Mr. Beets was a nice man, and

he was kind, and she didn't mind spending time with him. She shouldn't look upon it as an excuse for avoiding her bedroom.

As they walked out into the fields south of the house, Mr. Beets took a deep breath of air, in and then out again.

Charlie looked at him curiously.

"The air here is different than in the city," Beets said, in explanation. "Cleaner. Crisper."

"You can smell the flowers and things, too," Charlie said.

"Yes. And, thanks to you, I know more of their names than I ever did before," he said, and smiled at Charlie.

"That's because Scott taught me-" Charlie began, and then trailed off.

Mr. Beets seemed to give her an intense look. "I'm sure that whatever troubles there are right now, will work out

in a satisfactory way," he said.

Charlie glanced at him, and then let her gaze skirt away again.

When Beets made no further comment, or appear to be judgemental, Charlie said, "It's just-Scott's sort of

strict."

"And that's difficult to get accustomed to? Isn't it?" Beets asked, sounding kind.

"Yes," Charlie said honestly.

"Many things in life take some adjustment."

Charlie nodded. "Yes."

"Do you feel that the Lancers are kind to you? Scott, in particular?"

"They're-" Charlie hesitated, searching for the right word. "Well, they're immensely kind."

"Immensely," Beets said, as if thinking over the word. "I like that word."

"That's what they are. Immensely kind."

"I know, from speaking with all of them at differing times, that you are loved. Immensely loved," he added, and smiled

at Charlie.

L


	24. Understanding

Watching Mr. Beets being driven away, in the buggy with Murdoch, to go to town and catch his stage, Charlie felt herself feeling

a bit morose. By now, Mr. Beets seemed to be quite at home on the Lancer ranch. When he was there, he blended right into things, and it

was easy enough for Charlie to nearly forget that Beets had a life away from Lancer, in Stockton.

It was only she and Teresa standing there, seeing the buggy disappear in the dust down the road. Scott and Johnny had already

said their goodbyes to Beets, and were back out working, somewhere on the ranch. Usually, on Sundays, they didn't spend the

entire day working. So, it wouldn't be long, likely, and they would be back in the house again. Having some of the dessert that Maria

had left for them, and a drink or two.

There was only Teresa and Charlie in the big house, since Maria had gone home to her own family.

"Well," Teresa said, as they prepared to go back inside, "I guess I'd better get some of that mending out of the way that I've been

putting off doing."

"I'm going to get a snack," Charlie said. "Some of that carrot cake that Maria made."

"You just ate," Teresa said.

"I'm hungry for dessert," Charlie said.

"Alright." Teresa paused at the bottom of the stairs. "You're supposed to go up to your room, then."

So, Scott had told Teresa. Charlie had been debating delaying going to her bedroom. But, with Teresa knowing now, well-

Charlie eyed Teresa. "Are you supposed to watch me, and report to Scott?" she asked. As soon as she'd said the words,

she realized just how hateful that they sounded.

"I'm not going to report anything to him," Teresa said, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm just reminding you. If he comes in,

and you're not where you were told to be, well, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

"I'll go as soon as I get my cake," Charlie told her.

Teresa didn't say anything more. She looked miffed, though. She shook her head a little, and went on up the stairs.

Charlie went first to Murdoch's library, where she'd left her new book. Then, carrying it, she went off to the kitchen.

Charlie cut herself off a generous piece of the cake, and sat at the table to eat it, reading while she did so. She

was pouring herself a glass of milk, and debating about having a second piece of cake, when she heard voices from outside.

She stood up swiftly, looking out the window. She could see Johnny, talking to Vernon, one of the hands. And where Johnny was,

Scott was likely not far behind. They must have finished for the day.

She must have read away more time than she'd realized. That was always the way it was, though, whenever she was reading a

book that she liked.

Charlie took the glass of milk, and her book, and made haste to head upstairs. In her hurry, she sloshed some milk onto the

floor. Pausing, she wondered whether to wipe it up, or keep moving. She heard the voices, Scott's now, too, just outside the

window. Charlie left the spilled milk, and sped towards the stairs, still carrying her glass and her book.

At the door of her bedroom, Charlie waited, catching her breath, and listening. The voices were inside the house, now. She went

into her room, and closed the door very quietly. She went to sit on her window sill seat, folding her hands and waiting.

But, Scott didn't come right away. When time had passed, progressing from minutes into nearly half an hour, Charlie stopped

sitting that way, all straight and with her hands folded. She sipped at her milk, and tried to read again.

This time, though, it wasn't as easy to lose herself in the story.

She kept thinking about having to sit up here, while the afternoon passed her by. The cake that she'd eaten wasn't setting so

well in her stomach. When, according to the wall clock, another hour had passed by, and Scott still had not come up, Charlie

began to feel sorry for herself. Then, she progressed to feeling down in the mouth.

Finally, Scott came. There was a light rap on her door, and his voice, quietly, "Charlie?"

Charlie sat up straight once again. "Yes."

When Scott came in, he left the door ajar, and walked over to sit down beside her on the window seat.

"Tell me why you think I had you sit up here," he said. His voice was calm enough, but Charlie could tell he expected an

answer. An appropriate one.

"I asked you to make an exception," Charlie said.

"On what?"

Charlie blinked at him a moment. He knew very well what.

"On a punishment," she said, wondering what he was going to say.

"Tell me what you think a punishment is for," Scott said then, his look intent.

Again, Charlie blinked at him, wondering.

"So, a person won't do something again. Something that's wrong."

"Right. And rules are there to do what?" he asked.

"To make me behave," Charlie said.

For a moment, a very slight moment, Charlie thought Scott looked amused at her flip answer. Then, the amusement, if it had

been there at all, was gone.

"True," he acknowledged. "But, what other reason?"

"So I'll be safe, and nothing happens to me," Charlie admitted.

"Alright. Now, let's talk about trying to get out of a punishment," he said, and his expression became more

stern.

"I wasn't, Scott," Charlie protested.

"What was it, then?"

"Just an exception-" Charlie began, and then let her voice trail off as his eyebrow raised.

"An exception for tomorrow. And, if I did that, what do you think you would learn from it?" he asked.

Charlie studied him, wondering if it would irritate him if she gave another glib answer, or if she might

cause that amusement to flicker in his eyes again.

She decided to give it a try.

"I'd learn that you're understanding, and real nice," Charlie popped off, and waited for him to smile.

He didn't. Instead, he gave her a long look, and then sighed, as if she were trying his patience.

"Do you think this is something to make light of?" he asked her, his voice terse.

Charlie realized her mistake. Now, in her attempt to be humorous, she'd dug herself into trouble. She should have known better.

Scott was a serious person. And, while he could be as light-hearted as anyone else, when he was being serious, and somber,

that's what he expected of her, as well.

"No," Charlie said, and then, when his eyebrow rose higher in warning, she went on, "Well, I was making a joke, sort of, but

I shouldn't have."

"No, you're right. You shouldn't have," Scott said, and Charlie felt her reaction to the whole scolding change in that

moment. She'd been feeling sorry for herself. And, then, she'd tried to be funny, and cause Scott to perhaps smile. But, now,

she felt only badly, that she was in this position. To be getting scolded like this. And, regretful at her foolish attempts to

jolly her way out of things. And, too, she worried that he was going to punish her further.

"I'm sorry," she said, sincerely.

"For what, exactly?" he asked, not looking particularly impressed by her apology.

"For-making comments. As though I wasn't taking it all seriously," Charlie admitted.

"Are you able to take this talk we're having seriously, now?"

Charlie nodded, subdued. "Yes."

"Alright. When you're given a restriction on something, a consequence, then that's it. No wheedling, or attempting to

get out of any part of it. Do you understand?"

Charlie nodded again.

"Do I need to set out a consequence for if you do? Or are you going to be able to remember this conversation we've had?"

He looked still stern, and Charlie bit at her lower lip.

"I'll remember," she promised.

Scott regarded her for a long, long few moments, and Charlie had to force herself not to look away.

"Alright." He looked thoughtful, and then said, "I think another week is fair, to not ride your horse to school. So, next Monday, you

can ride in, and back home, alone again."

"Okay," Charlie said, feeling hopeful.

"After the week, if you do as you're supposed to, and come home on time, then that's when we'll talk about you doing things

with your friends after school again. Fair enough?"

"Yes," Charlie said, and gave him a tentative, genuine smile. "Thank you."

Scott nodded, and then said, "Stand up," to Charlie.

Charlie stood up, feeling timid again. Scott took her arm and positioned Charlie to stand directly in front of him.

"It's alright for you to be upset with me," Scott said. "And I want you to feel as though you can talk to me, about

however you're feeling. But, one thing-" he said, holding Charlie in place with his eyes. "Talking back is disrespectful, and

you're not to do it. And that includes muttering at me, or any adult, under your breath, like what you did earlier today. Got it?"

Charlie nodded, feeling as though she could tear up. And, that was silly. She didn't cry. Not like some sissy baby.

"I'm sorry I was disrespectful to you," she said, feeling ashamed.

"I accept your apology," Scott said.

Charlie nodded, still feeling all trembly. Not frightened of Scott. Just-trembly. She hated being scolded like this by Scott.

"Do I stay up here until supper?" Charlie asked, and she didn't say it in an attempt to sound pleading.

"No. I don't think you need to do that. Do you?"

Charlie shook her head, keeping her eyes on him.

"You can come down, and enjoy the rest of your day," Scott went on. "Before you do that, though, you have a mess in the kitchen

to clean up. And several spills on the stairs, too."

Charlie felt her face warm in embarrassment. She nodded in response.

"Okay," Scott said, and kissed the top of Charlie's head. As he moved, to stand up, Charlie wrapped her arms around

his neck, squeezing hard. Scott put his arms around her waist, returning the hug. Charlie felt, at that moment, full of emotion.

Even after the scolding, when Scott had given her that kiss on top of her head, that had made Charlie feel all funny inside.

Sort of mixed-up. Nearly like crying again. And, she didn't understand why, exactly.

Not letting go of him, Charlie squeezed tighter.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked,

"I don't know," Charlie admitted. She raised her head enough to look at him.

"Is there something else you want to talk to me about?" he asked, thinking that's what it was.

Charlie shook her head. "No."

Scott rubbed her back for a few moments, and then said, "Ready to go down, now?"

Charlie sighed. She still felt sort of funny inside, but not as though she wanted to cry any longer.

"I'm ready," she said.

L

To the guest reviewer who said that they felt this story was a tribute to Wayne Maunder, who portrayed Scott Lancer, I cannot express

how that made me feel. I hold it close to my heart, and wish I could thank you in a private message. If you feel comfortable sending me

a p.m., I would be thrilled to speak with you. Wayne Maunder WAS Scott Lancer. May he rest in peace.


	25. Worry is a hard thing

The next afternoon, an hour before school was due to be released, Miss Susan rapped on her desk for attention.

"I'm assigning homework, and then school will be dismissed early," she began.

A couple of the boys, Monte among them, let out a 'hooray', and the teacher frowned them down.

"That's enough. This is for today only. My mother has fallen ill." She assigned homework, and then dismissed school,

telling the children who were generally picked up by family to wait in the school yard.

Charlie couldn't help being excited, as well. Now she could spend some time with some of the other kids, and it wouldn't

be disobeying, because she had to wait for Scott or Murdoch to come anyway.

Once dismissed and outside, Charlie turned to Rebecca.

"Let's go get some candy at the mercantile," Charlie told Rebecca.

"I've got no money," Rebecca said.

"I've got some," Charlie said. "Scott gave me my allowance."

"Becca, let's go," Jason called to her.

"Charlie says we can go to the mercantile, and get some candy," Rebecca said, as Jason walked up.

"We've got chores waitin'," Jason told her.

"But, we're out early," Charlie pointed out. "You won't be late for your chores."

"She's right, Jase," Rebecca agreed, looking at Jason hopefully.

"I guess you can go and get a piece of candy if you want to," Jason said.

"You come, too," Charlie encouraged.

"No. I'll go on home, and let Ma know you'll be right along," Jason said.

Charlie felt disappointed. She really liked Jason, and admired him. He was always so nice, and seemed so responsible.

As she and Rebecca walked along, to the store, she asked Rebecca about it.

"Oh, Jase has always been like that," Rebecca said. "My Ma says he was born old."

"You mean because he's so serious?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. And never up to mischief. Or much of it, anyway. My Pa calls Jase his right hand man."

"Isn't it nice, though?" Charlie asked, curiously. "Having a brother?"

"If he's like Jason, then yes. I know some girls that don't like their brothers, though."

"I wish I had a brother sometimes," Charlie confided.

Rebecca looked at Charlie in sympathy. She hooked her arm thru Charlie's. "I'll share Jason with you," she said.

L

At the mercantile, the girls looked around a bit, and then stood before the candy containers, deciding on what to get.

They decided on three cents of licorice. Once back out on the sidewalk, Rebecca said she needed to be walking on home.

So, they said goodbye to one another, and Charlie set out for the school yard, to wait for whoever came to fetch her.

Just past the post office, Charlie cut thru the alleyway. She was surprised to round the corner behind the building, to

nearly trip over a foot, that was poised there, in the dirt. The worn-out shoe belonged to the mystery man, as Charlie thought

of him. He was seated there on a bench, and was carving at a small piece of wood.

"Oh!" Charlie said, startled.

The old man didn't look up from his carving. "The sunshine is a child's smile," he said, in that lilting voice of his.

Charlie regarded him, puzzled, again, by the way that he spoke.

"The sunshine is nice," she said, hoping he would talk more.

When he said no more, but only held up his carving, and blew off the excess, Charlie knew she had to go. If Scott or Murdoch got

to the schoolhouse and found her not there, there would be trouble.

She saw that the small carving was that of a horse.

"Well," she began, "Goodbye."

The old man looked up at Charlie. And then, he held out the carving to Charlie.

Surprised, Charlie looked at him.

"It's for you," the old man said.

Charlie reached out and took the wooden horse from his hand. She saw that his hands were crooked looking.

"Thank you," she said.

The man gave a brief nod, and Charlie said, in a burst, "What's your name?"

"Without a name, any flower is a stranger to you," the old man said, and stood up. Charlie was shocked to see that he was

only just a bit taller than she. Maybe a head taller. Very short for a grown man.

And with that, he walked away. His step was spry, and quick. He headed around the back of the dry goods store.

Charlie began walking towards the school again, and she could see another wagon arriving, to pick up one of the other children.

She was nearly running, and she heard her name called.

She stopped, looking, and saw Murdoch driving briskly along, in the buggy.

In instinct, Charlie took the carving, and put it inside her lunch pail. She walked to meet Murdoch, and he pulled the buggy to

a stop.

"And what are you doing?" Murdoch asked her.

Charlie handed her pail, and books up to him, and scrambled into the buggy, her other hand still holding the piece of licorice.

"School was let out early," she said, breathless from the running. "Miss Susan's mother is sick."

"Ah," Murdoch said, laying Charlie's belongings in the seat between them. "Where have you been?"

"Rebecca and I walked to the mercantile to get some candy," Charlie told him.

Murdoch nodded, and then asked, "When did school let out?"

"It was an hour early," Charlie explained.

"Licorice, is it?" Murdoch asked then, nodding to the candy in her hand, as he flicked the reins to begin Shep walking.

"Yes," Charlie said. "I should have gotten gumdrops. Then we could have shared them on the ride home."

"Next time," Murdoch told her, with a smile.

As they rode along, Charlie chewed at her licorice. She was so very curious to look at the horse carving, but didn't want to

explain to Murdoch where it had come from. Then she considered that. After all, Charlie told herself, she hadn't done anything

wrong. She'd just happened along upon the old man. She hadn't gone in search of him, or been anywhere she wasn't supposed to

be.

Charlie reached for her lunch pail, and opened it, saying, "I want to show you something."

"Alright."

Charlie took the carving from the pail, and ran her hand over the smoothness of the wood.

"Look," she said, holding it out so that Murdoch could see.

Murdoch held the reins in one hand, and with the other he took the carving, and surveyed it.

"That's some nice carving work," Murdoch said. He held it out, so Charlie could take it from him again.

"Yes," Charlie said, looking over the details of the carving.

"Did you buy it at the mercantile?" Murdoch asked then, and Charlie swept her gaze up to his.

"No," she said. "Somebody gave it to me."

"Well, it's nice work," Murdoch said again.

It didn't seem as though Murdoch was going to ask any further questions, and Charlie ran her fingers over the smooth wood again,

and then put the horse back into her lunch pail.

She was thinking that she would tell Murdoch about the source of the carving, when he spoke first.

"Scott got quite a bump on the head earlier today."

Instantly, Charlie felt all her senses spring into alert.

She sat up very straight, looking at Murdoch with wide eyes.

"Is he alright?" she asked. "What happened? Did he go into town to see the doctor?"

"Slow down," Murdoch told her, his gaze kind. "Don't get worked up. He's alright. He got pushed against the side of the corral

while they were working horses."

"Should he go to the doctor?" Charlie asked again, feeling her heart thumping in anxiety.

"Maria doctored him up. He'll be alright," Murdoch said, calmly.

"Oh," Charlie said, subsiding a bit, but with her thoughts still jumping all around in worry.

Murdoch laid a hand on her knee, and patted it. "He's alright, sweetheart. I wouldn't say it if it wasn't so."

Charlie nodded, and scooted closer, slipping her arm thru the crook of Murdoch's.

She was so quiet then, and a little pale-looking, that Murdoch said, quietly, "I know it's worrisome to you, thinking of

something happening to Scott."

Charlie nodded again. "I just-never worried about anybody before I met Scott. I was so little when my mother was sick,

that I didn't really understand that she might die and leave me. And then, with Katherine-well, you know how it was. She didn't worry

about me, and I didn't worry about her, either."

"I know," Murdoch said, patting her knee again.

"I'd worry about you, too," Charlie said. "And Johnny. And Teresa. All of you."

"Just as we have concern for you," Murdoch acknowledged.

"It's hard-worrying about someone," Charlie said.

"It is," he agreed. "But, that's part of family, darling. It all mixes together, in a large package. The caring, and the worrying, as well."

Charlie squeezed his arm. "You're wise, Murdoch," she said.

"I don't know about that," Murdoch said, smiling at her. "I'm mostly just old."

"You're not old," Charlie said, loyally.

"I thank you, and my creaking bones thank you," Murdoch said, in humor.

As they were nearing Lancer, within eye-sight, Charlie asked if Scott was inside the house, resting.

"He was already back out when I left to come and fetch you," Murdoch said.

As the buggy trotted up to the barns, and Murdoch pulled it to a stop, Charlie was nearly out before he stopped.

"Be careful now," Murdoch cautioned.

"I want to find Scott," Charlie said, jumping to the ground.

She went running to the barns, and found no one but Jelly, mucking out stalls.

"Haven't seen him," Jelly said, when Charlie asked him.

Charlie was off again, at a run, while Jelly was still talking.

She ran thru past the corral, where several hands were working, and saw Cip walking towards her.

"Do you know where Scott is?" she asked the older man.

Cip pointed in the direction that he'd last seen Scott, and Charlie ran again, until she found Scott, with Johnny,

at the pond. Johnny was knee deep in the water, putting a rope around a calf's neck.

"Ready?" he asked Scott.

"Ready."

Johnny tossed the end of the rope to Scott, and Scott began to pull.

Breathless from running, Charlie stood there, looking at Scott. He had a small bandage on the right side of his forehead, but, otherwise,

he looked as usual.

"Hey there, kiddo," he greeted Charlie.

"Are you alright?" Charlie asked, without preamble.

"Let me do this," Scott said, and put his effort and muscle into pulling the calf to the edge of the pond.

"Darn fool calf," Johnny muttered, wading his way out of the water.

Johnny reached to give Scott help in pulling, and the calf was brought to dry land again.

Johnny reached out and pulled the rope loop from around the calf's neck, and said, "Ya!"

The calf scampered away, in search of his mother.

"Are you alright?" Charlie asked again, going to clutch at Scott's hand.

"I'm alright," Scott told her, reaching out to brush her hair back from her face. "Have you been running?"

"Yes. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Why do you have that bandage on? Did you get a bad cut?"

"No, just a little one," Scott told her.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor, just to make sure you're alright," Charlie worried.

"No need," Scott said.

"Maria patched him up alright," Johnny said, rolling his rope back up neatly.

"I'm worried for you," Charlie said, looking up into Scott's tanned face.

"I really am alright," Scott reassured her.

"Well, okay," Charlie said, still sounding uncertain.

As they began walking, towards the house and barns, Scott asked, "How was your day? School go well today?"

"Yes. Miss Susan's mother is sick, so she let school out an hour early," Charlie told him.

"That's too bad, about her mother," Scott said.

"Uh huh," Charlie said.

"What did you do while you waited for Murdoch?" Scott asked, as they walked.

"I walked with Rebecca to the mercantile, and we got some licorice," Charlie answered.

"Ah," Scott said, with a nod.

"Rebecca didn't have any money, so I treated her," Charlie said.

"That was nice."

"Yes, I wanted Jason to come too, but he went on home to do his chores."

Charlie reached up to take his hand.

"Does your head hurt a lot?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Not too much."

"Scott wouldn't complain, even if it did," Johnny said.

L


	26. Details

Inside the kitchen, Charlie stood on a wooden stool, washing her hands at the pump.

The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread.

"Clear your school books off the table," Scott told Charlie.

"Alright," Charlie said, and began drying her hands, still standing on the stool. Murdoch must have brought her things

in from the buggy for her.

Maria said something in Spanish that Charlie didn't understand, and she turned to see the older woman with Charlie's lunch

pail. She was holding out the carved wooden horse.

"Is that yours?" Scott asked, looking from the horse to Charlie.

"Yes."

Scott took the carving from Maria, and looked it over. "That's very detailed," he said.

Charlie was still, and Scott looked at her. "It's nice," he said.

"Yes."

"Did you buy it?" Scott asked, assuming that the same as Murdoch had earlier.

"No. Somebody gave it to me." Charlie looked at Maria, as she went back to stirring things on the stove. She didn't want

to do this in Maria's hearing if she didn't have to.

"A present, huh?" Scott asked.

"Yeah. Sort of."

Scott held it out to her, and Charlie took it from him.

"I hope it's not from a boy at school," Scott said, and smiled at her a little. "I'll have to scare him off if it is."

Charlie would have liked to have smiled, or laughed at Scott's humor. Instead, she regarded him with serious wide

eyes.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked.

"Nothing. But, can I tell you about it later?" she asked. "After supper?"

"Alright," Scott said.

Maria told Charlie then to begin setting the table. Charlie gave Scott another look, which puzzled him a bit, and then

went to gather plates and silverware.

L

At the supper table, Teresa was full of news from town, since she'd been to a sewing get-together at one of the church

women's homes.

When she began talking about how Miss Susan's mother was ill, Murdoch commented how school had been released early

due to that.

"What's her illness?" Murdoch asked.

"She's been fighting a cold, and it's settled in her lungs," Teresa said.

"That sounds serious," Murdoch said.

From there, Teresa began talking about a break-in at the dress goods shop.

"What was taken?" Johnny asked.

"Some dress materials, scissors, things like that," Teresa said, and Johnny grinned.

"What's funny?" Teresa demanded.

"I just don't know why anybody would want to go to the bother of stealin' some dress goods and a pair of scissors," Johnny said.

"And then Val had his hands full, chasing that old man off," Teresa went on. "He was pilfering thru the barrels behind the café again."

"What old man?" Murdoch asked.

"Charlie's old mysterious man," Teresa specified.

Charlie sat up straight in her chair, her fork paused midway to her mouth.

"He's not my old man," she protested. She didn't need any attention drawn to her about the old man. Not when she had to tell Scott

yet, about the horse carving.

"I'm just teasing," Teresa said.

"Well, it's not funny," Charlie said, and now her stomach felt all churned up.

Teresa was looking surprised at Charlie's upset tone, and all three male Lancers were looking back and forth between she and

Teresa, as well.

"May I be excused?" Charlie asked, looking at Scott.

"You haven't eaten," Scott said.

"I don't feel like eating now," Charlie said.

"You don't have to be like that, Charlie," Teresa said. "I was just teasing."

"Teresa won't tease about it anymore," Murdoch spoke from his end of the table. His voice was calming. "Will you, Teresa?"

Teresa had the grace to look embarrassed. "No. I won't. I'm sorry that I upset you, Charlie."

Under everybody's quizzical scrutiny, Charlie felt her own face get warm. Now they would all be wondering why

she was reacting so strongly to something so trivial.

"Charlie, Teresa's apologizing," Scott prompted, when Charlie was silent.

"It's okay," Charlie said, in a small voice, into Teresa's general direction.

"Finish your supper," Scott told her.

Rather than protest, Charlie ate the rest of her food, or nearly, anyway.

She still felt all funny inside. No matter how many times she told herself that she hadn't done anything wrong, she

kept remembering what Scott had said about trying to hide what she'd been up to.

Would taking the wooden horse be like that?

When Maria brought a cake to the table, though, and Teresa began cutting it, and passing servings around

the table, Charlie said, "I don't want any cake, thank you."

L

Charlie did her small amount of homework, sitting at Murdoch's desk, while the family sat about, talking as they

generally did. When she was finished, Charlie closed her books, and stood up.

"Finished?" Murdoch asked, smiling at Charlie.

"Yes."

She went to the edge of the settee where Scott sat. "I'm going to get ready for bed," she said.

"So soon?" Scott asked. "You have awhile until eight o'clock."

"Yeah, pequeno," Johnny said. "Come and sit with me for awhile."

"I'm tired," Charlie said, and found that she was telling the truth.

"Are you feeling unwell, child?" Murdoch asked, looking concerned.

"I'm not sick," Charlie told him.

"Well, come and give me a goodnight hug, then," Murdoch told her.

Charlie went to him, and he gathered her in his burly arms. "Sleep well," he said.

Charlie gave Johnny a hug, as well, and told Teresa goodnight. Scott watched her head out of the library, and toward

the stairs, his forehead wrinkled in thought.

"Something's on her mind," Murdoch observed quietly.

Scott nodded in agreement. "I think something is always on her mind."

L

When Scott went upstairs later, he took the latest book they were reading together, and a piece of cake.

The door to her bedroom was open, and Charlie was sitting at her window seat, looking out. She'd discovered if the lamp

was turned down low, she could still see the stars out the window.

Scott went to sit down beside her, and turned the lamp up to make the room brighter.

He laid the book on the night stand, and said, "I brought you some cake, in case you changed your mind."

Charlie gave him a long look, and Scott set the cake on the table as well.

"So, before we read, you can tell me what you need to say to me," Scott told her.

Charlie reached under one of the pillows there, on the window seat, and brought out the horse carving.

Rubbing the smoothness with her fingers, Charlie looked at him earnestly.

"Remember I told you that Rebecca and I went to get some candy?"

"I remember."

"Then she had to get on home, and I was walking back to the schoolyard, so I'd be there when you or Murdoch came. And, I

went down the alley, and he was sitting there, carving this."

"Who was?" Scott asked, not following.

"The one-eyed man."

Scott was quiet then, watching her, and Charlie talked quickly on.

"I just talked to him for a couple of minutes. And he was talking all strange again, about flowers without names, and things

like that. And, I told him I had to go, and he gave me the horse," Charlie said, finishing her words in a hurry.

Scott was still quiet, looking as though he was contemplating, thinking things over.

"I didn't ask him for it, Scott. He just gave it to me," Charlie said, earnestly.

"I believe you."

A sense of relief washed over Charlie.

Scott reached over and took the horse from her. "The details really are incredible," he said.

"Yes," Charlie said, leaning closer to him. "The eyes seem as though they're looking right at you."

"They do," Scott said in agreement.

There was something in his tone, a reservation of some sort. Charlie leaned against his arm, and looked

at him. "You're not angry because I took the horse from him, are you?" she asked, anxiously.

"No. I'm not angry." He handed the horse back over to her, and Charlie smiled at him in relief.

"I hope the situation doesn't come up anymore," Scott went on. "But, if it were to happen again, and he offered you

something, I want you to say, 'thank you, but no'."

"How come?" Charlie asked, her smile fading. She had no plans of taking anything more from the old man, but she

wondered at why Scott was setting forth such a thing.

"It's what I think is best," he said. "The reasons are complicated." He turned to look down at her. "You just need to mind

me. Alright?"

Charlie nodded at him.

Scott reached over for the plate with the piece of cake on it, and handed it to her.

"Do you want to eat this, while I read?" he asked.

L

Charlie slipped the horse carving into her lunch pail the next morning, after Maria had packed it nearly full. She planned to

show it to Rebecca, and maybe Jason.

Johnny was the one that took her into school that morning. He let her drive the last of the way. Charlie had only ever driven

in the buggy, so the wagon was a bit different. She found it more difficult to guide.

Going thru the center of town, Johnny pointed to the right, at the figure shuffling slowly along.

"That the fella you keep talkin' about?" he asked Charlie.

Charlie looked, and saw the man, shabbily dressed as always, making his way down towards the stables.

"Yes. That's him," she said. As they watched the man paused, looked upwards at the sky, and then shuffled on.

"He's out and about early this mornin'," Johnny said.

"He's probably looking for something to eat," Charlie said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Why else would he go thru the barrels behind the stores and the café?" Charlie pointed out.

"He could be lookin' for lots of things, not just food," Johnny said, his gaze still following the old man's shuffled walk.

Charlie could see that Johnny was intrigued, at least somewhat by the mystery of the old man. She smiled to herself.

L


	27. An understanding

On Saturday, Charlie went along with Scott to town, and one of the stops they made, after the bank and post office, was to

Val's office to visit.

The two men sat in the office, at the desk, and played a game of checkers together, while Charlie sat nearby, watching.

After awhile, Charlie grew weary of just sitting there. She asked Scott if she could go and walk around a bit.

"Where to?" Scott asked, without looking up from the checkerboard.

"To see if Rebecca's home, or maybe to the mercantile to buy some candy," Charlie said.

"I suppose," Scott said, and reached into his pocket, pulling out some coins. He counted out thirty cents and handed it to

Charlie, who took it and said, "Thank you."

"Handing out money now, are we, Scott?" Val asked. "If so, I'll take some."

"It's my allowance day," Charlie told Val, with pride in her voice.

"It is, huh?" Val asked, smiling at her.

"Yep."

"No need to spend that all on candy," Scott told her.

"No. Not all of it," Charlie agreed, and then added, "Just part of it," with an impish grin at him.

"Remind me, where does Rebecca live?" Scott asked her.

"They live beside the stone church," Charlie said.

Scott gave the clock on the wall a look. "Be back here within the hour, alright?"

"Okay," Charlie said, and ran out with a backward 'goodbye!' and a wave.

As they returned to their checker game, Val said, "She's really a great kid."

"Yeah," Scott said. "She is." His tone was warm.

"What a difference the last few months have made, huh?" Val said. "You and the rest of the family have done wonders with

her."

Scott paused, a checker in his hand, to look at his friend. "She's had a little bit of trouble, getting accustomed to having rules,

and having people to answer to."

"Only natural," Val said. "Even young ones that have had rules all their lives stretch the limits a bit at times."

Scott nodded in agreement.

"Have you been out, at all, since Charlie's been here?" Val asked, studying Scott.

"I'm out. Right now," Scott said, with a very slight smile. He knew very well what Val was getting at.

"I'm talking about being out with a female. One that's not Charlie," Val said drily. "You remember those, don't you, Scott?

They're soft, and they smell real nice. They like to go dancing, and have you tell them how pretty their new dress is?"

"I seem to remember parts of it," Scott said, with humor.

"Do you have any plans along those lines?" Val persisted.

"I imagine one of these days I'll take a pretty lady to dinner, and dancing," Scott said. He gave Val a level look. "I've been a little

busy the last few months, you know?"

"I know that. Hell, I think it's great about Charlie," Val said. "But, you've got to have a life of your own, too, my friend."

"Like I said, I expect that I'll get around to it," Scott said.

"Well, no time like the present," Val said, and Scott gave him a raised eyebrow look.

"You know I've been seeing Clarice Lyons?" Val began, and at Scott's nod, he went on. "Well, her sister's visiting her

this week, and I think it'd be real neighborly of you to come along with me tonight, and meet her. We could have a nice supper,

and then go back to Clarice's for a bit to play a game of cards."

Scott gave Val a look, and began to speak, but Val held up a hand.

"Just a minute, before you refuse. Her name is Hallie, and she's a real pretty girl. Nice, too. It would mean a lot to Clarice, and to

me, too. And, it would do you good to get out," Val finished.

Scott sat back a bit in the chair, surveying Val. "Done?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm done," Val said.

"Alright. I'll come," Scott said, and Val grinned.

"Well, damn, if I'd known it would be that easy, I would have asked you when she first got to town," he said.

7

Charlie was back at the sheriff's office, before the ordered-upon time. Just barely before, but she still made it.

Scott was standing outside by now, still talking to Val, when Charlie came running up the side street.

She told Val goodbye, and got into the buggy, and after Scott got in, and they were driving out of town,

Charlie held out a sack of jellybeans, offering him some of them.

"Shake me out one or two of the red ones," Scott told her, and Charlie obligingly did so, dropping three red jellybeans

into the palm of his hand.

"Are you coming back to visit Mr. Val again tonight?" Charlie asked him, popping a black jellybean into her mouth. "I heard you

tell him you'd see him at six o'clock."

Scott wondered if Charlie would react in a positive way to the news that he was going out to dinner with a woman, or if she

might be upset by the news. Murdoch had warned him that Charlie might be resentful if he was to begin distributing time and attention

elsewhere besides to her. Still, it was only a supper engagement, and it wasn't as though she'd be alone for the evening. Murdoch would

certainly be home, even if Johnny and Teresa were not.

"I'm going out to supper with Val and two others," Scott said. "Val's friend, Clarice, and her sister that's visiting."

"Oh," Charlie said, regarding him seriously, and chewing on a jellybean. "Well, that's nice," she said then. "I'll bet you

have a good time."

Relieved. That's what he was.

"I hope so," he said, with a smile at Charlie.

Charlie held out two more red jellybeans to him, and Scott took them.

"Will you be home by the time I go to bed?" she asked then.

"I don't think I will be," he said.

"So, we won't do our reading together, then?"

"Well, no. But, I'm certain that Murdoch would be glad to read with you," Scott said.

Charlie looked as though she was considering. "Maybe I'll read something else with Murdoch," she said. "I wouldn't want

you to miss out on what happens next in 'Little Men'."

"That sounds fine to me," Scott said.

After they'd ridden along for a few minutes, Charlie spoke up. "Scott, sometime could I spend the night at Rebecca's house?"

"You can't invite yourself to someone else's house, Charlie. That's not polite."

"I didn't. I wouldn't. Rebecca asked me today. I mean, she asked me today if I'd be able to, sometime. And, I told her that I'd

ask you," Charlie said.

"Well, Rebecca's mother would have to approve it first, but, yeah, I imagine that would be alright. Sometime," Scott said.

"Yay!" Charlie said, in excitement.

"Sometime you might want to think about having Rebecca come over to the ranch to visit," Scott said.

Charlie sat up very straight, looking at him in excitement. "You mean to spend the night?" she asked, her eyes

shining. "For truly?"

"Sure."

Charlie hooked her arm thru his, and squeezed it. "Just like the other girls," she said, more softly.

"What?"

"This is what other girls do. They get to stay at each other's houses sometimes," Charlie explained. "I never got to do

it before. But, now I do!"

"I want you to have a normal childhood, Charlie," Scott said. "Do the things the other kids do. The good things, I mean."

"You mean, not like what I did in Stockton," Charlie supplied.

"That's right. I want you to be safe, Charlie. And happy."

Charlie squeezed his arm again. "I want you to be safe and happy, too."

"I figure as how that makes us quite a team, then, seeing as how we want the same for one another," Scott said.

"Quite a team," Charlie echoed, savoring the words.

L


	28. Awry

That night, as Scott was finishing his task of dressing for the evening out, Charlie sat in the middle of his large bed, watching.

Scott stood in front of the mirror at his dressing table, doing up his tie.

"You look very nice," Charlie told him, and Scott looked at her in the reflection of the mirror.

"Well, thank you."

"What's the lady's name? The one you're having dinner with?" she asked him.

"Hallie."

"That's a pretty name. I wonder if it's short for something."

"I don't know," he said, and turned from the mirror to face her. "Maybe I'll find that out tonight."

He picked up his jacket and began to put it on.

"Have you ever been engaged?" Charlie asked him.

"No. I haven't."

"Do you think you might be, though, sometime?"

"I don't know. I might be. Sometime."

"Oh," Charlie said, sounding contemplative, and Scott thought, a bit worried as well.

"This is just a supper tonight, Charlie," he said. "That's all."

"I know," she said, ducking her head, and looking embarrassed. She began to pick at the quilt on the bed with her fingers.

Scott came over and sat down on the bed beside her. "If I ever did meet somebody, that I found things in common with, and

that I enjoyed being with, that I loved, well, that wouldn't be a sudden thing. It would be a process. And you'd know about it, too, right

as it came along. It's not something that I would just spring on you without warning."

"I know," Charlie said, again.

"And, anybody that had that place in my life, well, they would know from the very beginning about you," Scott went on, quietly.

"They would?" Charlie asked, looking at him, her eyes wide.

"Sure, they would."

"You'd tell them about me? Just like that?" she asked, sounding a bit incredulous.

"Maybe not until after we've been introduced," Scott said, with humor. "But, right along there somewhere, yes."

"What if they didn't like the idea of it?" she asked then. "The idea of me?"

"Well," Scott said, reaching up and wrapping one of her auburn curls around his finger. "They wouldn't be the right

lady for me, then."

Charlie rewarded his words with a smile full of sunshine.

"Feel better?" he asked her.

"Yes. And I really do hope you have a good time tonight," she told him.

L

Scott did have a fine time. Such that he and Miss Hallie Lyons made plans to see one another again, when she visited the

next month.

L

On Monday morning, after breakfast, Scott caught a moment with Charlie before she left for school on Gurth.

"Home after school," he reminded her. "Everyone is going to be busy elsewhere around the time you get home. So, you'll be

on your own for just a bit."

"What about Maria?" Charlie asked.

"Her sister's ill, so she'll be helping her this afternoon and evening, and Teresa has a tea or something to attend." He paused in

thought. "I suppose you could go over to where she's at, when you get out of school. I hadn't thought of that."

"Oh, Scott!" Charlie burst out, impassioned. "Don't make me do that! Please."

Scott looked amused. "The thought of a ladies tea doesn't impress you, hmm?"

"I can come home and be on my own, really, I can!" she implored.

Scott looked down at her, serious again.

"Jelly will be about somewhere, and if you had any problems, you could ask one of the hands to come find me. Johnny and I will be

working to the north."

"Yes, alright," Charlie said. "I won't have any problems, though, I know."

"I'm trusting you," he said. His tone was quiet, but his meaning plain.

Charlie nodded solemnly. "Yes."

L

After school some of the other children were planning to get up a game of Rueben and Rachel, (variation of Blind Man's Bluff). While Charlie

would have liked to have stayed and participated, she found that she didn't really mind so much. At least, today. She wanted to do as

she'd promised, and show Scott she could be trusted. So, she said goodbye, and set out for the ranch.

It was a beautiful afternoon, just the right amount of wind. Enough, but not too much. Gurth was enjoying the ride, too. Charlie could

tell that. She talked to the horse all the way home, just as if he'd been another person.

Once at home, she unsaddled Gurth, fed him an apple from one of the trees, and turned him out to pasture with the

other horses. She put away her tack, thinking she would see Jelly about somewhere. But, the old man was not within sight.

Charlie took her books and lunch pail into the kitchen, and set them on the table. She washed her hands and then began to

look about for an after-school snack. Maria had left cookies on a platter, and Charlie took two of those, and a glass of milk.

She changed to her comfortable and preferred overalls, and then debated about what to do with all the unaccustomed

freedom of being on her own in the large house.

An idea occurred to her, and Charlie felt excitement rising. Just to make certain, she returned to the kitchen, and began investigating

what might have been prepared by Maria for supper that evening, and put away.

She found sandwich makings and fruit that had been cut up.

Charlie considered, and then went to look in the wooden icebox. She found thick pork chops there, eight of them. She thought it over. That

would be two apiece for the Lancer men, and one each for she and Teresa. That was the usual way of it.

Feeling emboldened, Charlie took them out and set them on the kitchen table. She surveyed the cook stove.

"You don't scare me," she said, to the stove.

She went to gather some firewood from the pile out back, and opened the iron door. The heat was still there, but not high. Charlie

put in the three small sticks of wood, and then took the poker, and stirred up the embers. There was a waft of smoke, but Charlie shut

the door firmly, and then proceeded to locate an iron skillet. She layered the pork chops into the skillet, and then set about slicing

some of Maria's homemade bread. She would, Charlie determined, have a delicious supper awaiting the members of the family when

they all returned to the house. Charlie couldn't help feeling excited at the thought of surprising them.

She made coffee, too, and put it on the stove. Not certain just how much coffee to add, she erred on the side of generous. Just

to be sure. Murdoch liked his coffee strong. As he often said, 'strong enough to walk'.

Charlie turned to look at the stove, pausing in her bread slicing.

There was more smoke, not less. Laying down the knife, she went to open the door again, poking at the embers with the poker.

She studied it, puzzled. There didn't seem to be much happening. The fire wasn't any stronger than before. And the smoke! It

wafted out into the room, and Charlie coughed, closing the door again in a hurry.

She stood there, debating about what to do. She'd done everything, she was sure, just as she'd seen Maria do.

She coughed again, and went to poke at the pork chops with a fork. There was not much indication that they were cooking.

Not sure what to do next, she opened the stove door again, poking, poking, poking. The fire seemed to be minimal. Charlie almost

felt as though the stove was laughing at her.

"You're not going to defeat me," she muttered. "Start doing what you're supposed to!"

The smoke in the room was very definite now. Charlie shut the stove door again, and went to open the kitchen door, propping it open so that

a breeze might come in, and some of the smoke go out.

Debating, Charlie thought she'd try more wood. Maybe that wood had been damp or something. In reality, she knew better. It

hadn't been damp. It had been hot all day. Still, she was trying to decide things in her mind. She went to gather four more smaller

pieces of wood, and opened the door, pushing them in hurriedly.

The smoke that came out made her eyes water, and her throat hurt. Frightened now, Charlie thought she'd go and find Jelly.

She went outside, and then ran to the barn, and around the corrals. No sign of the old man anywhere.

She yelled out to him, but there was no answer. In the distance, Charlie could see some mounted men on horseback. She could, she

thought, run to ask them for help. The ranch hands. She cast a glance towards the house. Smoke was drifting out the open door now.

In frustration and fear, Charlie scrambled over the fence, and began to run towards the men.

One of the riders was galloping, in the front. Charlie found she had to stop and catch her breath. Or try to.

When she saw that it was Johnny, she felt glad and scared, at the same time.

"Johnny-you've got to come!" she managed breathlessly.

Johnny was off his horse, and beside her, his hands on her shoulders. "What is it?" he demanded.

"The stove-" Charlie said, and turned to point towards the house.

From where he was, Johnny saw, and got back on his horse, pulling Charlie up in front of him. Once at the corral, he

swung down, and headed towards the house at a sprint. Charlie dismounted, and ran, too.

Bursting into the kitchen, Charlie saw that Johnny was already at the stove, and seemingly calm.

"Go fetch a newspaper," he told Charlie. "We'll see if we can't get some of this smoke fanned out."

Charlie took a hurried few moments, to run and get a newspaper from the hall table, and ran back with it.

"Just stand there, by the door," Johnny said, "And fan it outside."

Charlie did that, while Johnny opened the windows wider. The smoke was beginning to dissipate by now.

"You can stop," Johnny said. "It'll clear out on its own now."

Charlie stood there, the newspaper dangling from her hand, and promptly burst into tears.

Johnny came over, to bend down to her eye level. "Don't cry, pequeno. It's alright."

Charlie regarded him with wide tear-filled eyes. "It's not alright! I set the house on fire!"

"Aw, you did no such thing," he denied.

"What, then?" she asked, thru her tears. "I thought it did it right!"

"You just didn't open the damper, that's all."

"Damp-damper?" Charlie asked, her words halting.

"Yeah. Damper." Johnny stood up, going to the stove, and motioning to the damper. "It makes the smoke go up the chimney like

it's supposed to."

"I-I didn't know!" Charlie wailed.

"It's alright," he said, again, and came over, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, and tugging her down to sit on his knee.

"Everyone will be-mad at me!" Charlie insisted, sobbing.

"No, they won't. There's no harm done. Just a little smoke."

The sound of voices, and swiftly-approaching footsteps just outside had Charlie sitting up straight on Johnny's knee, and looking

to the doorway with dread.

"What's happened?" Murdoch thundered, his voice booming. "What's all this?"

Beside him was Scott, who immediate response at seeing Charlie sitting there with Johnny, her face blotched with tears, was

concern for her.

"Are you alright?" he asked Charlie.

"She's fine," Johnny said, answering for her.

"What's happened?" Murdoch asked again.

"A misunderstanding between the kid, and the stove," Johnny said lightly.

"Oh," Murdoch said, still looking slightly puzzled and stunned.

"What were you doing, Charlie?" Scott asked, and Charlie thought he sounded cross.

"I-wanted to make supper for everybody! As a surprise! And-I put the wood in and everything, but then it started

just smoking the kitchen up."

Both Scott and Murdoch were silent for a long few moments.

"Is that something you should have been doing?" Murdoch asked, tersely.

Charlie was silent, and Murdoch prompted, "Was it?"

"No, sir, I guess not," Charlie said, and a fresh onslaught of tears began.

"She was just tryin' to do somethin' nice, Murdoch," Johnny said, in defense.

Scott reached down and took Charlie's hand, pulling her to her feet. He circled his arm around her.

"It's alright," he said, and Charlie, grateful for his calm tone, wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I just wanted to make you proud of me!" she said, looking up at him.

"I am proud of you," Scott said. "Your intentions were good." He patted her back. "You might need to have a few lessons, though,

before you attempt to cook by yourself again. Okay?"

Charlie nodded. "Yes, Scott."

"What was it that you were preparing for us?" Murdoch asked. Charlie was glad to hear the terseness gone from his tone.

"Pork chops," Charlie said, and gestured. "And bread. And I made coffee."

"Well, that sounds like a fine supper," Murdoch said.

L


	29. Strong enough to walk, and easy to blame

The supper consisted of the cut-up fruit, the pork chops which Johnny had finished preparing, the bread, and the coffee Charlie had

made.

The pork chops were crispy, and fine. The bread had a slight, a very slight, taste of smoke about it. And the coffee was such that

it caused Murdoch's eyes to widen, and his lips to pucker a bit.

"Is it alright?" Charlie asked him, from her spot at the table, as he took the first sip.

"It's fine," he said.

Johnny, who'd already tasted it, gave his father an impish grin. "Good sturdy coffee, isn't it, Murdoch?" he asked.

"Sturdy. Yes," Murdoch said, in agreement, and took another sip.

"Is it 'strong enough to walk'?" Charlie asked him. "That's what you like, right?"

"That's what I like. And yes, darling, it's strong enough to walk," Murdoch said.

Charlie, feeling a bit better by now, smiled, and took a bite of pork chop.

"Nearly 'strong enough to run', hey, Murdoch?" Johnny said, with another grin at his father.

L

Upstairs, later that evening, when it was Charlie's bedtime, Scott read several pages in their book, and then closed it.

Charlie kept her cheek against his arm, where it had been while he read.

"I wanted to show you that I could do well today. That I could be trusted," Charlie said, sounding wistful.

"You showed me that."

"Even though I got the kitchen all smoked-up?"

"That was inexperience, on not knowing about the damper. We've already talked about this. No one is angry at you about it."

Charlie sighed. "Okay."

"Just remember, don't use it again, by yourself like that, until you've had some practice. Alright?"

"Yes."

She still sounded woeful, and Scott laid the book to the side, and put his arm around her, tucking her into his side.

"I think it's one of the nicest things we've all had done for us in a good while," Scott said. "With you thinking to surprise us all that

way. It was thoughtful. I'm proud of you."

All of the frustration, and then the panic of the afternoon's fiasco, faded away for Charlie. Even if it hadn't worked out the

way that she'd planned for it to, Scott was proud of her.

L

The next morning, before breakfast, Johnny caught Charlie around the waist, and swept her under his arm. He had to, he told her,

give her enough spanks to mark the fact that her birthday was approaching soon.

Charlie, who hardly remembered life with her mother, and who had never had a playful relationship with her aunt Katherine, hadn't

been a recipient to the tradition of 'birthday spankings' before in her young life.

She knew of the custom, of course, but hadn't ever been teasingly brought into it.

She giggled, and said, "It's not my birthday yet! You can't do it until my birthday!"

Johnny, who had her upturned, and his hand raised as if to deliver the 'birthday swats', gave a mock disappointed look.

"Not even for practice?" he teased.

"No! Not even for practice!" Charlie chided him.

"Well, darn," Johnny said, and reset her on her feet.

Charlie was still giggling as she slid into her chair at the table.

Over the breakfast of biscuits and gravy, and fried ham, Teresa asked Charlie about her upcoming birthday.

"It's next-Monday, right?" she asked. "Well, that gives us about a week to plan something. It's not every day that a girl turns

eleven. What would you like to do to celebrate, Charlie?"

Charlie looked about the table at all the adults who were regarding her, awaiting her answer.

"You mean I get to choose?" she asked, a bit incredulous.

"Well, within reason," Scott told her. "No trips to France, or gold-inlayed buggies, or anything like that."

Charlie, who appreciated it when Scott was silly or whimsical, smiled at him.

"Like a party," Teresa specified. "We can have a small one, or a larger one with your friends from school."

"Or, instead of a party, we could go somewhere," Scott suggested.

"Like where?" Charlie asked.

"To the city, maybe."

"Stockton?" Charlie asked. That had no appeal for her. Too close to Katherine for her liking.

"San Francisco," Scott said, and Charlie's eyes widened a bit.

"What would we do?" she asked then.

"There's so much to do there," Teresa said, with enthusiasm. She began talking about the shopping that could be done, or the

theatre. Charlie, who detested shopping, unless it was for books, and had no interest in the theatre, said, "I don't think I'd want

to do that."

Teresa looked disappointed for a moment. She must have been planning on coming along to San Francisco.

"A party, then," Scott said. "Small or large?"

Charlie thought for a moment or two, hardly able to believe that she was being given the choices, and even the specialness, of

choosing how she wanted to celebrate her birthday.

"A party with all of us, and Maria and her family, and Jelly, and Mr. Beets?" Charlie suggested. "And, Rebecca and Jason, and maybe

a couple of other kids from school?"

"That sounds fine," Murdoch said, from his end of the table, smiling at Charlie in approval.

"And presents," Johnny reminded, nudging Charlie in the ribs. "Don't forget about the presents."

Charlie smiled at him, her eyes shining.

L

Charlie sat down that evening, before bed, to print out her birthday invitations, in her best handwriting. She would give

to the four kids at school that she wanted to invite, and then mail one to Mr. Beets. Also enclosed in the banker's invitation was

a note from Charlie, telling Mr. Beets that the whole family looked forward to seeing him, and that Murdoch was eager to have another game

of chess with him.

L

The next afternoon, when the children emerged from the school building, shouting with freedom, Charlie saw Johnny, leaning

against the schoolyard fence. Running to him, she said, "Hi! What are you doing here?"

"I got done with what I needed to do in town, and I thought I might right home with ya," he responded.

"Before I get Gurth, I was going to mail my invitation to Mr. Beets," Charlie said.

"We'll do that," Johnny said, and, after he'd mounted, he pulled Charlie up behind him, as they rode down the main

street.

"Want to see what sort of pie is on special today?" Charlie asked him, hopefully, as they rode past the café.

"Sounds good, but we'd better do that another day. Maria was baking a chocolate cake when I left."

"Okay."

Once at the post office, Charlie slid down, and went inside to post her letter to Mr. Beets. When she came back out, Johnny

was watching as a crowd gathered around, across the street, talking together.

"What's going on over there?" Charlie asked, pausing, instead of preparing to take her spot behind him again.

"I don't know," Johnny said, still watching.

"Can we go see?"

"It's not any of our business, that I can tell, pequeno."

And then, Val came striding down the sidewalk towards the crowd, who immediately surrounded him, with raised voices.

"It's Val," Charlie said, unnecessarily.

"Uh huh."

The raised voices turned to yelling. Johnny watched another couple of moments, and then dismounted.

"Stay here," he told Charlie, and handed off the reins to her, to watch the horse.

"Can't I come?" she called after him.

"Stay put," he said, without looking back.

Disappointed, Charlie stood there, holding the reins, and trying to see what was going on. The yelling grew louder, then

dissipated a bit. Charlie could hear Val's voice, carrying strongly. Telling someone to hush up. And simmer down.

When a couple of people changed position, Charlie could see Johnny, standing next to Val, just slightly behind him. It didn't

look as though he was saying anything. Just standing there. Like support, Charlie supposed.

She was startled by the voice to her side.

"Hullo, Charlie."

"Oh. Hi, Lucy," Charlie said, turning to look at the other girl.

"They sure are being loud," Lucy said, as both girls returned their attention to the crowd across the street.

"My daddy's over there," Lucy said, as if sounding important.

"Johnny is, too. I wish I could go over and listen," Charlie said.

"Let's go," Lucy prompted, taking another lick from the sucker she held in her hand.

"Johnny said to wait here."

"My daddy said for me to wait over here, too. But, let's go, anyway."

Charlie looked at the other girl, questioningly. "Won't your father get angry with you, for not listening?"

Lucy shrugged, unconcerned. "He'll probably not even notice, and even if he does, I'll just smile at him, and he'll

forget about being angry." She took a few steps into the street, and then looked back at Charlie. "Come on."

Charlie stood where she was, considering. "I don't think I'd better," she said.

Lucy looked puzzled. "Why not?"

"Because. I don't want Johnny to get mad at me."

"Just tell him you forgot what he said before," Lucy said, and Charlie looked at her incredulously.

"You really say that to your father? And he believes it?" she asked.

"Uh huh. He believes whatever I tell him," Lucy said, sounding arrogant.

"Well, I'm staying here," Charlie insisted.

"I'll go over and listen, to see what's going on," Lucy said, and promptly crossed the street.

Charlie watched as Lucy worked her way thru, and for a few minutes she couldn't even see the other girl, hidden as she

was, by the men in the crowd.

There was more raised voices, some shouting, in the group, and Charlie tried to hear what was being shouted.

There was no use, though, there were too many of the folks talking at once. It was just a din.

Finally, a few of the men broke away from the group, and Charlie saw that they were shopkeepers, and then some of the others,

who were dressed in ranching clothing.

Finally, there was only Val and Johnny left, as Lucy waved at Charlie, walking down the sidewalk with her father.

"See you at school tomorrow!" Lucy called out to Charlie, and Charlie took that to mean that Lucy would share what

she'd managed to hear from the group's discussion.

Johnny came back across the street, reclaiming the reins. "Ready to get your horse?" he asked Charlie.

"Yes," Charlie said, and they began walking towards the livery.

"What was happening?" Charlie asked, when Johnny offered no information.

"Mostly nonsense," Johnny said. A very unsatisfactory answer.

Nearly to the stable now, Charlie decided to wait to ask more questions. They claimed Gurth, and began to ride

on the road out of town, towards the ranch.

"Why were they arguing?" Charlie asked Johnny, trying again.

"Disagreein' over how to handle somethin'. Trying to tell Val how to do his job," Johnny said, and Charlie thought he looked as

though he was deep in thought over it.

"What are they disagreeing about?"

"Mostly over who to accuse about the pilferin' takin' place."

"Somebody robbed the store?" Charlie asked.

"Not necessarily robbed. A few odd things here and there have come up missin'."

Charlie knew it was the old man who was being accused. Even before she asked, she knew it.

"They think it's the man, right?" Charlie asked him. "The glass-eyed man?"

"Seems as though that's what they think," Johnny said. He looked at Charlie. "Why did you suppose him first?"

"Because. He's the scapegoat around town," Charlie said. "He's the easiest person to blame."

"He may well be the guilty person, pequeno," Johnny cautioned.

"He may well not be the guilty person," Charlie countered.

At Johnny's raised eyebrow look, Charlie shrugged a little. "I'm only defending him. He seems as though he needs somebody

to do that."

L


	30. Dinner disagree

"Did you mail your invitation to Beets?" Murdoch asked Charlie, that evening at supper.

"Yes. I did."

Johnny talked about what had happened in town earlier. When Teresa remarked that it was, most likely,

the raggedy old man who was the culprit, Charlie said, without looking up from her plate, "It could be anybody else. It doesn't

have to be him."

"I'm saying that it's possible," Teresa said.

"Still doesn't have to be him," Charlie said.

"I'm not going to argue with you," Teresa said.

"I'm not arguing. I'm just telling you that-" Charlie began.

"That's enough," Murdoch said, from his end of the table. Charlie wasn't sure if he meant it for her, or for both she and Teresa.

She looked up, and down the table at Murdoch. He was pouring more coffee for himself, and not looking at her. Scott had his

eyebrows raised at her, and Charlie looked away again.

Later, after supper, Johnny and Scott left together, to ride to a neighbor's ranch, and then, most likely, to go

get a beer afterward.

When Charlie was helping to clear the table, she took her opportunity to challenge Teresa again.

Teresa, busy preparing to dry the dishes as Maria washed, looked up in surprise as Charlie asked, "Do you believe

in innocent until proven guilty?"

"What?" Teresa asked.

"Isn't that what people are supposed to do? Be innocent until they're proven guilty?"

"Charlie, what are you talking about?" Teresa asked, sounding irritable.

"I just think it's unfair to judge somebody because of the way they dress, and how they look-"

Teresa stopped, and turned to face Charlie, frowning.

"I'm not judging anybody," she said.

"You said that it's the old ragged man who's doing the stealing in town-"

"Charlie, just stop. Alright? Let's not talk about it, anymore. Please."

"There's lots of people around that it could be, not just him-" Charlie persisted.

Maria said something sharp in Spanish. Charlie wasn't sure what it meant. Only one word, but the expression on

Maria's face spoke plainly enough. She meant for Charlie to hush it.

"I'm only just pointing it out-" Charlie said.

"Charlie," came a strong, booming voice, at the doorway of the kitchen.

Charlie whirled around so swiftly she nearly dropped the handful of cutlery she was holding.

Murdoch stood there, coffee cup in hand, his eyebrows drawn together, and disapproval on his face.

Wondering how long that Murdoch had been standing there, Charlie felt her face get warm.

"Put those down," Murdoch said, nodding to the silverware that she held.

Charlie obeyed, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Go to the library, sit down and wait for me," he said then, sounding stern. "I'll be right along."

Charlie felt her stomach do loop-de-loops. She didn't even look at Teresa or Maria as she passed. Murdoch seemed

to fill up the entire doorway. He stepped aside and Charlie went by him.

She went quickly enough to the library, and sat down on the sofa. Charlie had the strangest feeling then. Always before, the

library had been a welcoming, warm place to be. Right at this moment, it didn't seem so, though. It seemed not warm at all.

And ominous.

It wasn't long, and Murdoch appeared. He came into the library, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. Charlie sat up very

straight, and feeling very anxious.

He went to sit in the chair behind his desk, and took a drink from his cup. Then he set the cup down, and looked

at Charlie.

"Come here," he said.

To Charlie, feeling nervous, and even, if she would admit it, a bit frightened at the moment, his voice seemed curt. Terse.

She stood up, and went reluctantly to stand beside the desk.

Murdoch sighed. It was, Charlie thought, a very deep sigh.

He leaned back a bit in the big wooden chair, and surveyed her. Charlie prepared herself for his raised voice.

Instead, he said, quietly, "You were rude, just now. To both Teresa and Maria. Extremely rude."

Charlie opened her mouth, preparing to protest, or at least to explain, but then closed it again.

"You weren't going to say otherwise, were you?" he asked. There was a trifle of warning in his tone.

"Because," he went on, "If you were, that's going to make me very upset with you. You were rude, and there's

no saying otherwise."

Charlie was quiet, looking at Murdoch out of wide eyes.

Staying quiet didn't seem to be what Murdoch wanted, though.

"What do you have to say, young lady?" he asked, frowning.

"I was- trying to explain about not judging the man-" Charlie said.

"First of all, it's not your place to explain anything about proper behavior to Teresa," Murdoch said. "Or to any other adult. You

are a child, and that is not appropriate. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Charlie said, biting at her lip.

"Teresa is not the sort of person to judge someone on how they dress, or how they look," Murdoch said. "If she did say

something, she would be the first to admit she was wrong."

Charlie was silent, looking at him, and she could feel tears bubbling, near the surface.

"It seemed to me that you were wanting to continue an argument, and Teresa did not want to argue. Did she?" he asked,

sounding severe.

"No, sir," Charlie said.

"And then Maria told you to stop, and you kept on," Murdoch said, and he gave Charlie a less stern, and more sorrowful type

of look. "That was wrong, Charlie."

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, so softly it was nearly a whisper.

"It's not me who you need to say that to," he said.

"Okay," Charlie managed.

"You need to take care of that. Before Maria leaves to go home," he said.

Charlie nodded, tears squeezing out of her eyes, and she brushed at her cheek.

Murdoch reached into his pocket, and pulled out a handkerchief. He put one hand on her shoulder, to steady her, and with the

other he wiped her cheeks and her nose.

"Go and do your apologies," he told her. "And then come back."

Charlie trudged out of the library, and to the kitchen. She paused in the doorway, trying to work up her courage. Both of the women

had their backs to her, and were talking, as they did the dishes.

"Excuse me," Charlie said, and both Maria and Teresa turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry I was arguing with you," Charlie said, looking at Teresa. "And, Maria, I'm sorry I didn't stop when you told me

to stop."

"It's alright, Charlie," Teresa said, and Maria nodded.

"Perdonado," Maria said.

Again, Charlie wasn't certain what that meant, but Maria was smiling. Just a little, but still a smile. So, Charlie thought it

was good.

She nodded, and turned to walk back to the library. At the door of the library, she paused. Murdoch was

sifting thru papers on his big desk, and he looked up.

He didn't say anything. He just crooked his finger, for Charlie to come to him.

Again, Charlie walked the distance to where he was. Her feet felt so heavy.

"Did you apologize?" he asked.

Charlie nodded, her eyes shiny with tears.

Murdoch lifted her up, onto his knee. "No need for more tears," he said, sounding gruff.

And then, after that, he was quiet. Silent. He patted her back for a bit, gently, and finally, Charlie relaxed enough

to lean back against him, and lay her head on his chest.

"It's a fine thing," he said, after the time of silence, "To think the best of other people, as you do. Even if there are folks who

disagree, and believe the worst. It's a sign of strength, Charlie."

Charlie, listening to his words, was quiet, but tilted her head upwards, to look into his face.

"I'm in no way saying that you should change that about yourself. It's to be admired. Sometimes, though, it

needs to be tempered with listening to advice from others. And, you can't go about arguing and behaving rudely

just to try to convince them that they're wrong, and you're right."

Murdoch rubbed his chin on the top of Charlie's head. "Do you understand?" he asked.

"Yes, Murdoch."

"Alright, then. I expect you to behave better, and we'll say no more about it."

"What about Scott?" Charlie asked, worried. "Are you going to tell him that I was-being rude, and arguing?"

"I'll talk to him about it, yes," Murdoch said. "I'll also tell him that I did the necessary scolding."

Charlie let out a breath. Of relief.

L


	31. The Offer

Eight o'clock had come, and Charlie was sent up to bed. The evening had been a quiet one, with just the three of them.

Teresa had been sewing on a dress, while Murdoch read thru the newspaper. Charlie had occupied herself reading on the book

she'd purchased at the mercantile.

She was in her nightgown, and sitting on the window seat, still reading by the lamp, when she heard horses, and voices

from down below her window.

Charlie, who'd been worried over what Murdoch would tell Scott, and what Scott might say, scrambled up from her seat, and

turned the lamp down, shifting the room into near-darkness.

She climbed into bed, under the quilt, and tried to quiet her thumping heart. Even though Murdoch had said he would

talk to Scott on her behalf, Charlie felt nervous. She tried to still her breathing.

It would take Scott a few minutes before he came up. He would be in the library by now, talking to Murdoch. And then, it might

take a few minutes more before he came upstairs.

When she did hear the sound of boot-steps in the hall, she turned to her side, and closed her eyes.

Maybe if he thought she was asleep, he might wait until tomorrow to talk to her about it. It was a good plan.

The steps stopped outside her door, and then it opened, and a sliver of light from the hall came into the room.

There was a shifting, as he sat down on the edge of her bed.

Without preamble, Scott turned the lamp back up, and said, "I know you're awake, Charlie. I saw you turn the lamp down

when I was riding in."

Charlie turned from her side to her back, to look up at him.

"Did you and Johnny have a good time?" she asked, trying to sound cheerful.

"It was fine," he said, and then put a hand on either side of her legs, so that he was leaning a bit closer.

"How was your evening?" he countered, knowingly.

"You already know," Charlie said, subdued.

"I do. But, I'm asking you."

"I was arguing," Charlie said, with a sigh. "And I should not have been." She folded one arm underneath her head.

"The arguing didn't work out so well for you, did it?" he asked.

Charlie sighed. "No."

"So it's something you want to avoid in the future?"

"Yes, Scott," she said, and sighed again.

"Alright."

When she'd made her hurried scramble to the bed, Charlie had toted her book with her, and it was under the bedclothes.

Scott felt it there, and lifted the quilt to take it out.

"I'll read a few pages from this tonight. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, glad that he was done talking about what she'd done. So, he read from the book, while Charlie watched his face

as he read, thinking that he made the words real, as if they came alive.

When he was done, he laid the book on the night table.

"Sleep well," he told her, and kissed her forehead.

L

The next day at school, the talk was of what had happened, amongst the kids at recess.

Lucy, being the only one of the kids who had heard with her own ears what was being said, was full of self-importance.

"Some of the men were saying that they were going to pay a visit to that old man," Lucy said, enjoying having the attention of

the whole group surrounding her. "Tell him that they know what he's been up to."

"You mean threaten him?" one of the other girls asked.

"They should," Thomas said. "Maybe then he'll stop going thru stuff that don't belong to him, and stealin'."

Charlie, who had stayed quiet mostly, said, "What's the harm if he goes thru what other folks throw away?"

A few of the youngsters in the circle looked as though they agreed with Charlie, but others, like Monte, proclaimed

loudly that Charlie was stupid for thinking that way.

"And, besides," he said, with a sneer at Charlie, "He's stealin' from folks' homes and stores now."

"Maybe he isn't," Charlie said.

Monte stepped closer to her. "What's that mean?" he demanded.

"It means, maybe he isn't," Charlie repeated.

At that, Monte began to laugh, at first, but then he looked serious and all angry again.

"I'm thinkin' you're just as crazy as that old man is," he accused.

"Leave her alone, Monte," Jason said, warningly.

"It's okay," Charlie said. "It doesn't matter to me what an imbecile thinks of me."

At Monte's confused look, some of the other kids laughed.

"He don't even know what that means!" Thomas hooted.

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how a person viewed it, Miss Susan came out and rang the school bell, summoning

her students back into the schoolhouse.

L

Once school was dismissed for the day, Charlie made quick work of getting to the stable, to collect her horse. Then, at the

juncture where she could turn and head home, to Lancer, or go the other direction, to the right, she chose right.

She would, Charlie told herself, only take a few minutes. If the old man was out in the yard, she would talk to him. Just for a couple of

minutes. She wouldn't even get off of Gurth to do so. She would offer him the piece of pie that she hadn't eaten at lunchtime.

Then she planned to ask him if he needed food. She could talk to the family then. The Lancers were good, kind people. Murdoch often

looked after a couple of elderly neighbors, who had no family nearby. They wouldn't begrudge giving a few groceries to an old man.

She just wouldn't mention that she had ridden out to the shack.

L

At the edge of the road, just before the grass began that led to where the shack sat, Charlie pulled Gurth to a stop.

There was no sign of the shabby man in the yard, or on the porch. There were, however, dogs lying there. They raised their

heads immediately, eyeing Charlie.

And then they began to bark, as only a hound dog can. Their mouths raised to the sky, and baying. One of them got up.

Wondering if she should just turn Gurth about, and made a speedy return to town, Charlie was debating. And then,

he was there, at the corner of the house, a rifle in hand.

He stood there, saying only, "Quiet!" to the barking dogs. Then, silence. Staring at Charlie.

Charlie took a deep breath, and called, "Hello!" to him.

No answer.

"I came to ask you something!" she called out then.

"Can't hear ya. Come closer," he called in return.

Charlie shook her head.

"I say, come closer!"

Charlie shook her head again.

The old man took a few steps. Not many. Just enough to measure a couple of feet, or so.

"What you want?" he hollered. "Come 'round here to bother me agin?"

There was no sweet, musical lilt to his voice. No strange but intriguing snippets. And the dogs had barked. All signs pointed

to the likelihood that this was the man in his 'surly' and unfriendly mode. Not gentle and kind as he was at other times.

"I didn't come to bother you," Charlie said. "I only wanted to see if you needed some food."

"Eh?" he called.

"Something to eat!" Charlie hollered, raising her voice. "Do you need something to eat?"

The man took another few steps closer. He spat a stream of tobacco onto the ground beside his shoe.

"You goin' to fetch me some vittles is ya?" he said, sounding unbelieving.

"I could," Charlie said, trying to sound as though he wasn't unnerving her, staring as he was.

"What sort of vittles you reckon to bring 'round?" he asked, stepping another foot or so closer.

"Some fruit-and some meat, maybe. And I could bring a cake or maybe a pie. Some bread," Charlie said.

"Well, now, that sounds right fine. Just real hospitable."

"I'll talk to my family," Charlie said. "And maybe we can bring it tomorrow or the next day-"

"I don't want no nosy no-goods comin' 'round," the old man said.

"They're not no-goods," Charlie defended. "They're good people."

"Like others 'round this town, humph?" he snorted. "Ain't no good folks 'round here."

"Well, they are," Charlie said stoutly. "My family is, anyway."

"Humph," he snorted again. "Well, you bring them vittles, but you come alone. Don't be draggin' anybody else with ya."

"I can't come by myself," Charlie said.

"Why that be?" the old man asked, scowling.

"Because." Charlie hesitated. "I just can't, that's all. If you want the food, then I'll have somebody come with me to bring it."

"You just never mind, then," he said, and turned to begin walking back to the shack. Limping.

"You don't need to feel that way," Charlie called after him. "My family wouldn't do you any harm!"

He stopped, turning to stare back at her.

"Who that be, you're talkin' of?" he asked. "Your Pa? Granddad?"

Charlie hesitated. It was so complicated to explain. Scott was like her father. Yet, he wasn't truly her father. He was young to be her

father. Still, it was easier that way. And Murdoch was very definitely like a grandfather.

"Yes," Charlie said.

"Who they be?"

"Scott Lancer," Charlie said.

The old man spat another stream of tobacco at the ground.

"Kin to Murdoch Lancer?" he asked.

"Yes. That's his father."

The old man hobbled back over closer. He stretched out a gnarled hand to touch Gurth on the nose.

"Murdoch Lancer your granddad?" he demanded.

"Yes," Charlie said, again deciding on the simple explanation of their family dynamics.

"What about that Madrid fella? I've heared of him."

"That's Johnny," Charlie said, and hesitated. "And he's not Madrid. He's Johnny Lancer."

"He your kin, too?"

"My uncle," Charlie said, simply.

"That right?" the old man asked, eyeing Charlie. Even at that moment, Charlie tried to decipher if one of those eyes was glass.

"Well, well," he went on, and then turned to start limping towards the shack again. "Come on up to the porch, and we'll talk on it," he said,

over his shoulder.

"I can't. I have to get home," Charlie said.

"Go ahead on, then," he said, not turning around.

"Do you want the food?" Charlie called.

"Said so, didn't I?"

"What about Murdoch? Can he come with me?" Charlie hollered.

"Murdoch Lancer wouldn't waste his time with the likes of me," was the old man's response.

"That's not so!" Charlie called.

Nearly to the porch now, the man motioned to the dogs, who all came to stand beside him.

"Yes or no?!" Charlie called, determined to get him to commit.

"Suit yourself," was the final response, as the old man, and the three dogs, all went into the door of the shack, before it was closed

shut again.

L

Charlie galloped Gurth part of the way home, to make up for the lost few minutes. She was feeling good inside. Though

puzzling over how to approach this venture to the family.

L


	32. Truth will out

Even before she reached home, before she was within sight distance of the ranch, Charlie knew she'd made a mistake.

Another one. What had she been thinking? Going out to talk to the man that way? She'd been told not to do that very thing.

Her mind began to work, trying to figure it out.

She slowed Gurth to a walk.

"I'm a dumb kid," she told the horse. "A real dumb one."

Gurth tossed his head as if he understood just what she was saying.

"You think so, too, don't you?" she asked him, glumly.

Chastising herself, Charlie talked aloud. "I have a wonderful family, and they care about me! And I have you, Gurth, and I have

some friends now, and-I have all of that, and I have to keep being a rotten kid."

When she rode up near the house, Jelly was busily washing his pig. He had a bucket of water, and a scrub brush, and was

scrubbing away, in circular motion. The pig, silly thing that she was, stood still, and let the water drip off her, seeming as if she

enjoyed it.

Scott was there, too, and Murdoch, and they were both laughing as they watched.

"Put pearls on a pig, Jelly, it's still going to be a pig." Scott was telling the older man.

"Just you never mind that," Jelly said. "Rosemary is gonna be the best lookin' pig at the show. The smartest one, too."

Scott laughed again, and Murdoch shook his head, as they turned to greet Charlie.

"Hey there, kiddo," Scott greeted her, reaching up to slip his fingers beneath Gurth's bridle.

"Hi," Charlie said.

Rosemary chose that moment to depart, causing Jelly to tip over the bucket of water, in his attempt to chase her down.

Murdoch laughed again. "Hello, darling," he said.

"Hi, Murdoch."

"How was school today?" Scott asked, looking up at where Charlie still sat on Gurth.

"School was good," Charlie said.

"You're a few minutes later than usual," Scott said. He didn't say it accusingly, just more matter-of-fact, Charlie thought.

"Sorry," Charlie said. She didn't know how else to answer.

"It's alright," Scott said. "I wasn't worried just yet." And then, he smiled at her. A nice smile.

It was the sort of smile from him that always made Charlie feel glad inside.

Charlie tried to smile back, but she didn't think it was a very good one.

"You plan on sitting up there the rest of the day?" Scott asked then, teasing.

"No," Charlie said, and dismounted, running her hand over Gurth for comfort. Both for his, and for her own.

Murdoch and Scott began talking then, about a fence that was in need of repair, and Charlie led Gurth to the

pasture, taking him in, and unsaddling him.

She came back thru the gate, carrying her saddle.

Scott was walking towards her, as she approached the barn to put the saddle away.

"Here, I'll take it," he told her. "You go and gather up your books and dinner pail."

Charlie went to pick up her belongings, from where she'd laid them on the ground beside the corral.

She and Scott met up together, as they approached the house.

"We have a surprise for you, after supper," Scott said.

Charlie looked up at him. "You do?"

"Uh huh."

"What is it?" Charlie asked.

"If I told you now, then it wouldn't be a surprise later, now would it?" Scott asked, and he smiled at her again.

Instead of feeling as excited as she would have at any other time, Charlie felt the guilt of her trespass more strongly.

Johnny was behind them, then, as they went into the house.

"Did you tell her?" he demanded, looking at Scott.

"Tell her what?" Scott asked.

"You know what. About her surprise," Johnny said.

"You're an overgrown kid, you know that?" Scott told him.

Then, to Charlie, Scott said, "I think Johnny's as excited about it as you're going to be."

"Tell me now," Charlie said, looking up at each of them, in turn.

"Scott says after supper, so after supper it has to be," Johnny said.

"Is it for my birthday?" Charlie asked.

"No, not really," Scott said. "It's a 'just-because' sort of thing."

He ran his hand over the back of Charlie's head. "So, you make sure you get your schoolwork finished, alright?"

"Now?" Charlie asked. "What about feeding the cats? And gathering the eggs?"

"We can do that later," Scott said. "Just head on to the library, and do your schoolwork."

The family was secretive about what surprise awaited Charlie. She'd finished her homework, just as the table

was being set for the supper meal. She'd been warned to stay near the front of the house, too, and not look outside.

Once the meal had been finished, everyone walked along, as Charlie was guided to the side yard, Johnny's hands

over her eyes.

Once she was told she could open them, and she did, Charlie saw that a swing had been constructed and hung from a limb

on the huge Oak tree. And, not just any old swing, either. This was a grand swing, indeed. It was wide, and sturdy, and hung with

thick rope. It was painted a shade of royal blue.

Charlie was so surprised that she only stood there for a moment, looking at it. She looked up at Scott, and he smiled at her.

"Well, go on, pequeno," Johnny told her. "Give it a try, for gosh sakes."

Charlie went over to the swing, touching it almost reverently. The wood was so smooth. It had been planed until no splinters were

possible.

"I can't believe you made me a swing," she said, looking at the family standing there, watching her.

"You asked for one," Scott reminded her.

"I know, but-" Charlie hesitated. She didn't finish her thought, that she hadn't actually dared to hope her request would be fulfilled.

"It's so beautiful," Charlie said, sitting on the swing. "Thank you so much!"

L

Charlie sent the swing flying, for, she wasn't sure just how long. At first Scott gave her a few pushes, and then Johnny.

Johnny got her going so high, that he was able to dodge underneath the swing as she was in the air.

Eventually, the family went back inside, and Charlie still kept on. Until Scott came, finally, just out the door, and

said, "Come on in now. It's getting late."

Charlie let the swing come to a stop, and got off reluctantly. She ran her fingers one more time over the smooth, blue,

wood.

That night, as she was saying her goodnights to everyone, she thanked them again, for making the swing.

"It should last a good many years," Murdoch told her.

Charlie hugged Johnny. "Thank you," she said.

"I can't take credit for makin' it," Johnny told her. "That was all Scott's doing."

"You're just the one that nearly broke his neck, tying it to the tree," Teresa said, laughing.

"No such a thing," Johnny denied. "Don't you believe her, pequeno. I'm like a panther. I could climb to the top of any tree."

"I'm glad you didn't fall," Charlie said.

She went up the stairs, and got into her nightgown, and then released her braid, brushing her hair out. She was still doing that,

and struggling with some tangles in her curly hair, when Scott came in.

"Should we read first?" he asked. "Or do you want me to brush your hair out?"

"Read," Charlie said. She did love it when Scott brushed out her hair for her. He was gentle about it, and never tugged too hard, but

he always managed to get even the most stubborn snarls out. But, in this case, she wanted him to read, so she could think some

more while he did that.

When Scott had reached the end of the next chapter, he closed and marked the ending point.

He laid the book aside, and said, "Still want me to brush your hair?"

"Yes," Charlie nodded, and handed him the hair brush, turning her back.

Scott began to brush, and Charlie thought for a few moments.

"I love my swing," she said.

"I'm glad."

"It's twenty times nicer than Lucy's," Charlie went on.

"Twenty times nicer, huh?" Scott asked, sounding amused.

"Yes. Definitely."

She hesitated, and then said, "I know I asked you for one, and all, but-I was still surprised."

When Scott had finished, and handed her the brush, Charlie turned forward again, and looked at him.

"It's nice to be listened to," Charlie said, wondering if he would understand what she was trying to say.

Scott regarded her, his expression steady. "Everybody needs to be listened to," he said.

"I mean, I told you I'd like a swing, and you listened. Listening is sort of different from hearing. Do you know what I mean?" she asked.

"I think I do," Scott said.

"Before I came here," she began, "Before I met you, I knew she heard me, but she didn't really listen."

There was no need for Charlie to specify the 'she' that was spoke of. Katherine.

Scott wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and tugged her closer, in a one-armed hug. "I'm glad you think that I listen

well to what you have to say. I'll try to keep doing that."

Charlie, looking at his face, so familiar now to her, with the lines at the corner of his eyes, felt overwhelmed with emotion.

She pressed her face into his side, her fingers plucking at one of his shirt buttons. "What would have happened to me if I

hadn't met you that day at the train? I don't think that I would have been alright, Scott!"

"Well, we did meet that day, so there's no worries there," Scott said, his tone comforting. He gave her another hug, and

kissed the top of her head. "Time for sleep," he said.

After she was in bed, and the quilt had been tucked around her, Scott said goodnight, and went out, leaving the door just

slightly ajar.

L

Charlie waited for sleep to overtake her, but it didn't come. She laid there, listening to the sounds of the big house, and

the people still awake in it. She had to tell Scott about going to the shack today. It made her feel sort of sick inside, thinking

that she'd gone against him. It wasn't asking so much, not to go out to the shack alone. It wasn't unreasonable of him.

Her stomach began to hurt. Could she try what Lucy did with her father? And tell Scott that she'd 'forgotten' for a bit what he'd said?

Just as quickly, Charlie dismissed that notion. Scott wasn't the sort to go along with such nonsense. Besides, it would be

another fib.

Finally, Charlie gave it up, and got out of her bed. She went down the stairs slowly, the carpet rough beneath her bare feet.

She could hear muted voices from the library, and went to stand just to the side of the open doorway. It was Scott and Murdoch.

Scott was sitting in one of the large chairs, a glass in his hand, while Murdoch stood.

Murdoch was saying something about a ranch hand, one of the new ones, and how his wife was very ill. Charlie took a couple more

steps, until she was more in view, but still outside the room.

"Well, I think I'll take myself up to bed," Murdoch said. "Sleep well, son."

"I will. Goodnight," Scott was saying.

And then, Murdoch saw Charlie. "Well, what do we have here?" he asked, in his big voice. "You startled me, darling."

Scott was looking at her now. "What is it, Charlie?"

Charlie found it hard to speak up at that moment, and Murdoch came closer to her, touching her cheek with a big hand.

"A bad dream, likely," Murdoch said. "Hmm?"

Charlie shook her head slightly, and Murdoch said, "Well, I'll say goodnight," and then he was gone, past Charlie and headed

towards the staircase.

"What is it?" Scott asked her, again.

"I can't sleep."

"Do you not feel well?" he asked then.

"It's not that."

"Well, come here," he said, setting down the glass on the nearby table.

Charlie went to him, leaning against the arm of the chair, as Scott reached up to lay his hand on her forehead, and then her cheek.

"You don't feel warm," he said.

"It's not that," she said, again.

"What, then?"

Charlie searched his face, and then, just as though she was nothing but a baby, she felt tears welling up in her eyes.

"I've done something-" she began.

Scott wrinkled his forehead, as she went on. "Something you told me not to do."

"Ah," he said, his eyes steady on her face. "I see."

For a moment or so there was silence, though it seemed to Charlie that her own breathing was heavy.

"What is it that you've done?" he asked.

"I went out to the man's shack."

Scott looked startled, at least Charlie thought so.

"You did, huh?" he asked, slowly.

At Charlie's nod, he asked, "When?"

"Today. After school."

Scott sat back in the high-backed chair, and surveyed Charlie, still with a somewhat puzzled expression.

"Why?" he asked her, then.

"I thought-that he might need some food."

"I don't understand," Scott said. "What are you talking about?"

"Folks in town think he's the one stealing things. And he gets into the bins behind the café. I just thought he might

do that because he's hungry."

"And was he there?" Scott asked.

Charlie nodded.

"So, you thought you'd ask him if he needed food," Scott said. "And, you went. Even though we've talked about it before,

and you knew it's something I didn't want you to do."

The way he spoke, it wasn't phrased as a question. Just a statement of how it was.

"That makes me feel sorrowful. That you don't feel as though you have to mind me," Scott said, then.

At his words, and with his eyes looking at her the way that they were, Charlie began to cry. Not loudly, in sobs, but, crying still.

"I don't feel that!" she protested. "I know I have to mind you! It was a mistake!"

"Yes. It was," he said, quietly.

"I know I have to mind you!" she said again, and swiped at her wet cheek.

There was then, a dreadful silence. At least, to Charlie, it seemed so. She could tell Scott was thinking. Considering. He

looked stern.

Finally, Charlie could stand the quiet no longer, though it had, in reality, only been a few moments.

"Do you have to spank me now?" she asked, hating the trepidation she heard in her own voice, but determined to have

courage.

"Do you think that you deserve to be spanked?" he asked.

Charlie bit at her lip. Determined also, to be truthful, she said, reluctantly, "I guess I do."

"Hmm," Scott said, his gaze unwavering. "And, I did tell you, didn't I, that that's what would happen?"

Charlie gave the briefest nod possible.

"Well, here's what I think," Scott began. "You were wrong to disobey me. No matter if your motives are pure, in wanting to help

the man out, you still need to do what I say. You know that, already."

"Yes," Charlie said.

Scott reached out, and put a hand on her side, pulling her over to stand in front of him.

"So," he said, as if he was considering, "I think you'll have a ride to and from school again for the next week, instead of being on your own.

And, you do deserve to be spanked. The one factor in this that helps, is that you came and told me on your own. So-" he paused, looking

as though he was thinking again, "Taking that into consideration, I think just a few wallops are needed. Sound fair?"

Charlie didn't want any wallops. None at all. But, a few sounded vastly preferable to a bunch. Scott was being fair.

She straightened up, and swiped at her cheek again. "Okay," she said, trying to sound brave.

And then, it was over nearly as quickly as it began. Scott pulled her closer, and, not even tipping her over his lap, he

swatted her, once, twice, and three times, while she stood. The first two were so quick and hardly even stung, but the third

did. And, then, he stopped, turning her to face him again.

"Alright. From here on, how is it going to go?" he asked.

"I'm going to listen, and do what you tell me," Charlie said.

"Okay," he said, quietly. He regarded her somberly for a moment or so, and then reached up to rub his thumb over

her wet cheek. He patted her back with slow circles, while she calmed and her breathing settled a bit.

"Think you'll be able to sleep now?" he asked.

Charlie nodded. "I think so."

"Alright." He stood up, and went to turn down the lamp on Murdoch's desk, and then took her hand in his own,

and they went upstairs. At her bedroom door, they parted, and Charlie got back into her warm bed, and found that

sleep was more attainable.

L


	33. The celebration

On Saturday afternoon, Rebecca and Jason, and two other children from school, Millie and Timmy Wilkes, were brought out to the

ranch and dropped off by their parents. They joined the Lancer family, along with Mr. Beets, for Charlie's birthday celebration. A long table had been

set up outdoors, and they ate fried chicken, and deviled eggs. There were two pies, blackberry and apple, and a three layer

chocolate cake with candles.

Johnny lit the candles, and Charlie stood, and everyone sang Happy Birthday to her, before she blew out all

eleven candles, successfully.

Murdoch had suggested the gifts the family had for Charlie be given later, privately, when the guests had gone

home. That way, he explained to Charlie, if her friends weren't able to bring a gift, then they wouldn't feel embarrassed,

or awkward.

Millie and Timmy, though, had brought Charlie a game as a gift. The game of Knurr and Spell. Charlie had heard of the game,

but had never played it. The ball, made of canvas, which was termed the "Knurr", was hit by a stick that had a flat end. The object of

the game being to hit the ball further than any other player.

Rebecca gave Charlie some drawing pencils, and from Jason there was a hand-carved dog, that he had done himself.

After Charlie had opened her gifts, and everyone had enjoyed some of the desserts, the five children went to

the side yard, and played a noisy game of Knurr and Spell. After that, the boys continued to play, while Charlie, Rebecca

and Millie took turns on Charlie's swing.

When Rebecca and Jason's father came to collect them in his wagon, he also took Minnie and Timmy, to drop them

off at their home.

Charlie saw her guests off, with Murdoch and Scott standing with her.

"Quite a successful party, hmm?" Murdoch asked her.

"Yes. It was the best afternoon I've ever had!" Charlie said, with enthusiasm.

"The best? Well, that is something indeed," Murdoch said, looking amused.

"I wish it didn't have to end," Charlie said.

"Well, the day's not over quite yet," Scott reminded her. "You still have this evening with all of us. It just might be

that you get another present or two."

Charlie beamed at him, her dimples showing. She ran to find Johnny, who was sitting beside Mr. Beets outside, under

the shade of a tree, to coax him to push her on the swing.

"You know how to swing yourself, pequeno," Johnny chided.

"But you can push me higher than I can make myself go," Charlie reminded him. "Please?"

"Five minutes only," Johnny told her. "And then you're on your own."

Johnny went along with her, while Scott and Murdoch took empty chairs to join Beets. The three men watched as Johnny

pushed Charlie to what seemed perilous heights.

"She's certainly enamoured with that swing," Beets said.

"It's her current favorite thing to do," Scott said, watching Charlie and Johnny with a smile at the corner of his mouth.

As they continued to watch, and as Johnny's pronounced 'five minutes' turned into much longer than that, Mr.

Beets began to speak.

"Things appear to be going very well," Beets said, looking to Scott.

Scott gave a nod. "They are. A few bumps along the way, but, for the most part, very well."

"I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear that," Beets said. He looked out at Charlie again, flying high in

her swing. "And, too, pleased to see it. It's obvious that she's happy."

Scott nodded again. "She seems to be."

"What are you thinking, Scott?" Beets asked now, his gaze direct. "Any second thoughts about taking Charlotte on?"

"No," Scott said, swiftly. "Not at all."

"I'm asking, son, that's all," Beets said. "I wouldn't judge you if you said you'd had a moment or more where you wondered

what you'd gotten into."

Scott met the older man's eye. "I have no regrets."

Beets nodded in acknowledgement. "How about you, Murdoch? Have you adjusted to having a child in the house

full time?"

Murdoch chuckled. "It's been eventful since Charlie arrived. But, I find that I enjoy having her running in and out of the house. Having

an opportunity to spend time with her." He smiled at Beets. "I'd say the adjustment for all of us is progressing well."

"Wonderful," Beets said, sounding satisfied, as Johnny came striding back over to join them.

At this point, Charlie was standing in the swing, her hands wrapped around the rope, and swinging herself in the

standing position.

L

Supper was a simple meal. Maria had prepared it, and then gone home to her own family. Before she left, she

presented Charlie was an apron. Hand-stitched by Maria herself, it had blue birds around the edge, and was made to

fit Charlie's small frame. No longer would Charlie have to wear a sizes too large apron, wrapped doubly around her waist.

"Thank you," Charlie said, giving the older woman a hug. "Gracious."

"Es hora de que tengas tu propia," Maria said. _It is time you have your own._

When the family had finished supper, and gathered in the library, they ate more birthday cake, and then

Charlie received her other gifts.

Teresa gave her a new quilt for her bed, one that was bright yellow, with blue flowers. Murdoch gave her drawing paper, and

some paints. From Beets, she received a Louisa May Alcott book, 'Eight Cousins'.

Johnny and Scott together presented her with a new saddle. It was the finest saddle that Charlie had

ever seen.

It was a bit smaller than the one she'd been using, and was more in fitting Charlie's smaller build. It had a nickel horn, and

brass conchos.

Charlie was so shocked at the beauty of it, at the opulence, that she found she had no words. A fact which Johnny made quick

note of.

"I think she's speechless," he said, with a grin. "That's gotta be a first, huh, Scott?"

"Definitely a first," Scott agreed.

Charlie reached her hand out, and ran her fingers over the nickel horn, and then the conchos.

"It's too pretty to use," she said, her eyes still wide with wonder.

"Well, we didn't get it so that it could sit and gather dust in the barn," Johnny said. "It's meant to be used."

"I don't know what to say," Charlie said, looking up at both of them.

"Well, do you like it?" Johnny asked, teasingly. "Start by saying that."

"I love it," Charlie said, and then, overcome with the emotion of the day, and the wondrousness of the saddle, she

turned, and pressed her face into Scott's side, tears flowing.

The family exchanged looks over her bent head, and Scott ran his hand over her hair.

"I never had a birthday like this," she said, her voice muffled.

Instead of telling her to stop her tears, or otherwise calling a halt to her emotion, Scott wrapped both arms around

her, and said, quietly, "It's alright, Charlie."

L

Later, still looking over her saddle, and touching it reverently, Johnny explained to her, "These are ox bow stirrups."

"What are they?" Charlie asked, puzzled.

"Instead of the ball of your foot sitting here, across the base of the stirrup," he showed her, "It's the arch of your foot that does."

"How come?" she asked.

"It helps you to maintain your ridin' position," Johnny explained. "The better the ridin' position, the less likely you are to

lose your balance and come off your horse."

"Oh," Charlie said, a little breathily, and looking properly impressed. "Can I try it tomorrow?"

"After church, in the afternoon, you can," Scott told her.

When it was time for bed, Charlie gave a hug to everyone in the room, including Mr. Beets. The banker looked

surprised, but very definitely not displeased at Charlie's display of affection.

"I've been wanting that very book that you gave me," she said.

"I'm very glad," he told her.

"Thank you for being here, for my birthday," Charlie told him.

"I'm glad to have been included." Beets said.

Charlie gathered up her new quilt, the book from Beets, and the drawing supplies from Murdoch, and then paused at

the doorway of the library to look back.

"Can you bring my saddle up to my room?" she asked, in a general way, looking at Johnny and Scott both.

"What for?" Scott asked, looking surprised.

"Yeah, pequeno, it's not like you can take your horse up there and try the saddle out," Johnny told her, with a grin.

"I just want to look at it some more, before I go to sleep," Charlie said.

Scott hesitated, only for a moment, and saw his father give just the barest nod of his head.

"Alright," Scott said. "I'll be up with it in just a bit."

L

Scott carried the saddle up, and sat it on the window seat. Charlie had been sitting on her bed, looking over her

drawing supplies from Murdoch, and leafing thru the pages of her new book. When Scott had set the saddle down, she

pushed the other things aside, and got up, going over to the window seat.

"I still can't believe it," she said, sitting down beside the saddle, and running her hands over it. "It's the best present

anybody ever got. Ever."

Scott gave her a smile. "I'm glad you're so happy."

Charlie stood up again, and came to stand just in front of Scott. "It's not just the saddle," she said, looking up

at him, her expression earnest. "It's everything-that made it such a special day. Nobody ever did anything like this

before for me. Gave me a special day just because it was my birthday."

Scott cupped a hand around the back of her neck. "You deserve it," he said.

"Nobody ever thought so," she said. It was said in a matter-of-fact way, not as though she was asking for pity. "Not before

I came here."

"I'll bet your parents made your birthday special," he said, as a reminder.

"Maybe so," Charlie agreed. "I don't remember, though. That's why today is so spectacular."

Scott smiled a little. "Spectacular, huh?" he asked.

"That's the best word I can think of," Charlie said.

"Well, if it fits the way you feel, then it's the right word," Scott said.

He looked toward the bed, which was already covered with the new yellow quilt from Teresa.

"That looks nice," he said.

At Charlie's nod, he added, "Time for you to be getting to sleep."

"Okay," Charlie said, sounding reluctant. She gave the saddle one last touch and went to climb up onto her bed, and under

the quilt. Scott picked up the book, and the drawing supplies, and laid them on the night table.

"We don't have to read tonight," Charlie said, sitting up, her legs folded under the quilt.

"You don't want to?" Scott asked.

"I just thought we could talk, for a little while, instead," Charlie said.

"Alright," Scott said, and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her.

Charlie studied his face, her eyes full of emotion. She seemed to be searching for words, and Scott

studied her, just as contemplatively.

"What is it, Charlie?" he asked her, quietly.

"I'm glad I'm here. At Lancer." Charlie sat up very straight, her hands folded in her lap.

"Everybody in this house is glad you're here," Scott said.

Charlie gave a small smile. "Thanks," she said. She bit at her bottom lip. "I want to say something," she said.

Scott waited, his eyes kind.

"I know you're still real young, and all," Charlie began. "Too young to be really my father. But, that's how I think of

you, you know. Like you're my father."

Scott was silent for a long, long few moments. He could feel his heart pumping harder thru his chest.

"Oh, Charlie," he said, finally, with a sigh.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same-" Charlie said, in a rush. "I mean, if you don't feel like that about me-"

"Charlie-"

"I would understand-" Charlie kept on.

"Charlie," Scott said again, louder, and she subsided, looking at him out of wide eyes. Eyes full of worry, and

hope.

"I feel the same," he said.

"You do?" Charlie asked.

"Come here," he said, and pulled her over, her legs coming out from beneath the quilt. He held her tightly,

his chin resting on the top of her head.

"I got some medals, you know, in the army," he said. "But, you telling me that you think of me as your father, that's

the highest honor I've ever gotten."

Charlie raised her head to look up at him.

"So, it's alright? That I think of you that way?" she asked.

Scott rested his chin on her head again. "It's very definitely alright."

L


	34. Val

Things were a little different after that. Charlie wasn't sure just why exactly, but they were. She found she didn't have the

urge to be disobedient. At least not as often, anyway. Charlie decided that it made her feel really good inside, to do what

pleased Scott. And Murdoch. And, well, the whole family really.

She was helping Maria a couple afternoons after the birthday party. Helping to prepare the evening meal, and wearing her

new apron over the top of her denim overalls, she was kneading bread dough.

There was the sound of horse hooves and then men's voices. Charlie left her task and went to look out the back screened door.

"It's Mr. Val, come with Johnny," Charlie told Maria.

"Senor Val, pedirle que la cena," Maria said, without looking up from her stirring. _Mr. Val, ask him to supper._

 _Cena._ That was supper. And Senor Val was Mr. Val. So she meant ask him to supper, Charlie determined.

"Okay," Charlie said, and went out the door, walking across to where Val and Johnny stood talking.

"Well, hello, Just Charlotte," Val greeted her.

"Hullo, Mr. Val," Charlie returned the greeting. "Hi, Johnny."

"Hey, pequeno."

"Maria says to invite you to stay for supper," Charlie told Val.

"Well, how did Maria know that's what I was hoping for?" Val said. He reached out and touched Charlie's cheek. "What's this

all over your face?"

"Flour," Charlie said. "I'm helping to make the rolls."

"Ah. I see," Val said.

The rolls were prepared, and the table set, the evening meal put on it, and the family gathered around.

Val pronounced the rolls delicious, and showed it by eating three of them.

It was while the meal was being eaten, and enjoyed, that the conversation turned to events in town. Thefts had continued,

though they were odd ones. It was nothing big being stolen. More small items, and things that would not normally be considered

items often stolen. Dress goods from the mercantile, thread; horseshoes from the livery; dishes.

"What are you thinking, Val?" Murdoch asked.

"I can't put my finger on it," Val admitted. "It's nothing of great value at all. And there's never any locks broken for entry. It's as

though someone slipped in under the door, and then back out again."

"Puzzling," Murdoch said.

"And frustrating," Val added.

"And no clues?" Teresa asked.

"Not really."

"Well, enjoy your meal for tonight, and give your shoulders a rest from the burden," Murdoch advised him.

"I appreciate it," Val said. As they were finishing the meal, and getting to their feet, Val said, "It seems as though there's something

odd about the one set of footprints that I saw back of the mercantile. The morning after the dress goods went missing."

"What was odd about them?" Scott asked.

"One seemed heavier than the other one," Val said. "More sunk into the mud."

As the four men stood to make their way to the library, to talk and have a drink or two, Teresa and Charlie began clearing the table.

"You'll have to help me with the dishes," Teresa said. "Maria went home."

Charlie would have preferred going to the library, as well, so that she wouldn't miss any of the interesting conversation

about the mystery in town.

"I've done dishes for the last two nights," Charlie protested.

"You can still help me," Teresa insisted.

"I helped with them while you were out with-" Charlie began.

"Charlie," Scott spoke quietly, and she looked towards him. She hadn't heard him step back into the dining room.

He picked up the cup of coffee that he'd left on the table, still half-full.

"You can help Teresa with the dishes," he said.

Charlie swallowed her complaint, and said only, "Okay," though not happily.

"When you're done, you can bring the pie in, and have a piece with us," he said.

Charlie nodded in agreement, and Scott took his coffee and went on.

She looked at Teresa swiftly, to see if she seemed triumphant, but Teresa wasn't paying any attention, it appeared.

She was busy carrying dishes to the kitchen, and began preparations to wash them. It didn't really take that long to

do them, and Charlie got a tray, loading it with the blackberry pie, plates, and forks to take to the library.

"Here," Teresa said. "You don't want to forget a knife to cut it." She laid a knife on the tray as well.

"I'll finish these up," Teresa said, looking at the few dishes that were left. "I know you want to get in there so you

can hear all the criminal talk."

"It's interesting," Charlie defended herself.

"I know. Go on. Take the tray with you."

Charlie carried the heavy tray carefully to the library. When she reached the room, Johnny stood up, and came to

take the tray from her, setting it on the table in front of the settee.

When he'd done that, and gone back to sit down, they all went on talking, and Charlie hesitated.

"Go on and cut the pie for us, darling," Murdoch told her.

Charlie nodded, and, feeling grownup, she sliced the pie into generous pieces, and scooped them onto

individual plates, handing them out to each of the men in the room.

"Did you bake this too, kiddo?" Val asked her.

"No. I don't know how to make pie yet," Charlie said. She took a plate with a piece for herself then, and went

to sit between Johnny and Val.

The talk was on other things. The price of cattle. The wetter than usual weather. Then it returned to the

thefts in town.

"Folks are getting right irritated," Val said. "Can't figure out what's taking me so long to solve it."

"There's always somebody who thinks they'd do a better job," Johnny said.

"In this case, more than just one somebody," Val said.

"What would cause the one footprint to be different from the other?" Charlie asked.

"Hard to say. Could be lots of different reasons," Val told her. "It might be even just the way I was looking at it."

"Oh," Charlie said, licking the blackberries off her fork.

Val went on to say that the old man from the edge of town had been chased off again recently, after going thru the

bins outside of the café, and the mercantile.

"I think he's looking for food to eat," Charlie said, and immediately saw that she had all of the attention.

"It's possible," Val said. "He's sure a nuisance to the shop owners."

The clock struck seven, and Scott said, "Do you have schoolwork to finish?" to Charlie.

She did. She had handwriting and spelling.

"A little," Charlie said.

"Well, gather it up, and get started on it," Scott said.

"I'm not finished with my pie," Charlie said.

"When you're finished with your pie, then."

Charlie nodded, and took her time eating what was left. Even though the conversation went on to something else, it

was still interesting. And, preferable to doing spelling.

It was nearly seven-fifteen when Scott spoke to her again. "You're finished with your pie. Go do your homework."

Charlie sighed a little, but got obediently to her feet.

As she went out of the library, she heard Val said something about 'precocious'. Charlie determined to look up

that word as soon as she was able to.

L

It was before she left for school then next morning that Charlie had the opportunity to take down the dictionary in

the library. She had only a moment or so before Teresa called to her. The only definition she saw beside the word

'precocious' was 'sassy', 'inopportune', 'unseasonable', 'quick'. That was all she had a chance to skin over before

Teresa appeared at the door of the library.

"It's time for you to go, now," Teresa said. "You're going to be late. What are you doing, anyway?"

"Just looking something up," Charlie said, and replaced the dictionary on its correct shelf.

"Well, hurry up."

Charlie rode to school, not hurriedly. Thinking over what she'd heard, and then read.

So that's what Mr. Val thought of her, was it? That she was, unseasonable, and sassy? And quick? Did that mean he

thought she could run fast, or what? And what did inopportune mean? But, sassy. He thought she was sassy. So, he must

not like her as much as he'd let on.

Charlie thought she might ask Miss Susan about it at school. But, there was a substitute that day. Mrs. Delweiler from church, and

Charlie didn't feel comfortable enough to ask.

When school was over, she was beginning her walk to the livery to get Gurth, when Monte and John passed by her. John

ran on, merely turning to poke out his tongue at her. Monte, however, paused and began walking backwards, beside Charlie.

"You hear about your old man?" he jeered.

Charlie flicked him a glance. "What are you talking about?"

"The old man. The one you always take up for. He got run off with a gun from the livery the other day. The fellas there

are right tired of him hangin' around. Tryin' to steal. They figure he'll be tryin' to take a horse next."

Charlie gave Monte a look of disgust, but said nothing.

"You'd better watch out for that butt-ugly horse of yours," Monte continued to taunt. "Even though he's ugly,

that old man might think he'd be good eatin'."

"Shut up, Monte," Charlie said.

"Gonna make me?" Monte asked, and reached out and pulled one of Charlie's braids.

That did it. Charlie reacted, reaching out to give Monte a smack on his shoulder, hard enough to cause his eyes to

widen.

"Now you did it," Monte threatened. "I don't care if you are a girl! I'm gonna pound ya!"

"All by yourself?" Charlie said. "Don't you need your little brother to help you?"

Charlie didn't know if Monte would have pulled his fist back and socked her or not. She wasn't sure what she would have

done if he had. No decision had to be made, because a strong hand closed around Monte's wrist.

"That's enough," the voice said, and both children looked up to see Val's face. Serious and not-so-happy appearing.

"She's always runnin' her mouth to me!" Monte said, getting in the first complaint.

"There's not going to be any fisticuffs in the street today," Val said. He gave Monte a shake. "You get on home, Monte."

Monte took a few steps, and then said, "Thinks she's the boss of me, but she ain't!"

"Zip your mouth, and get home, or I'll have a talk with your Pa," Val told him.

With a last sullen glare at Charlie, Monte took off, running towards the nearest alley.

Once Monte had disappeared, Charlie and Val regarded each other for a moment or so.

"You alright?" he asked Charlie, with a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Looked as though the two of you were

going to rowdy it up."

Charlie shrugged. "He's an ignoramus."

"Ignoramus, huh?" Val asked.

Charlie looked away from Val's face, and said, "Well, bye," and began walking on towards the livery.

Val kept step with her easily, continuing to walk with her.

"How about an ice cream cone, or a cold lemonade?" he offered.

"No, thank you," Charlie said. "I have to get home."

"Those rolls sure were good last night at supper."

"Maria did most of it," Charlie said, and walked faster. "You should thank her, not me."

"Hey, now," he said. "Where's the fire?"

"I can't be late," Charlie said, still avoiding his eyes.

"You sure you're alright?" Val asked, sounding concerned.

"For somebody who's quick, and unseasonable," Charlie muttered, and went into the livery.

"Howdy, Charlie. Howdy, Sheriff," the stable hand greeted.

"Hey, there, George," Val said.

As Charlie would have gone to fetch Gurth, Val put a restraining hand on her arm.

"George, would you mind getting the horse out and saddled? I want to talk to Charlie for a minute," he said.

"Sure thing, sheriff," the man said, agreeably.

Charlie swept her eyes up to Val's. "I have to go," she protested.

"And you're going to. As soon as George has your horse saddled. I want to talk to you." And, with that, Val steered her

back outside the livery and around to the side for privacy.

"Did Monte say something else to upset you that you're not telling me about?" he asked.

"No."

"Well, what's the trouble then? You don't seem yourself."

Charlie shrugged, looking at a spot over his shoulder instead of at him.

"What'd you mean by earlier, saying you're 'unseasonable'?" Val asked then.

"It's just a definition," Charlie said vaguely.

Val sighed a little. "Are you upset with me about something? Because, if you are, I thought we were good enough

friends that you could talk to me."

Well, that reached her. Charlie looked back directly at him again. His face was serious, but kind. As she was hesitating,

he said, "Was I wrong about that? About us being friends?"

"I thought we were," Charlie said, still stubbornly. "I guess I'm not so sure."

"Alright," Val said, not looking or sounding quite so patient. "If you want to stand here and talk in riddles to me, then

I guess there's nothing I can do about that. Let me know if you change your mind. Alright?"

As he turned, to begin his walk back across the street again, Charlie said quickly, "You said I'm precocious."

Val paused, and turned back. "What?"

"Last night. You said I was precocious. I heard you."

Val took the few steps back over to her. "What's wrong with that?" he asked.

"I just don't think it's very nice of you," Charlie said, bravely.

"You don't, huh?"

Charlie shook her head.

"What do you think it means?" he asked then.

"It means unseasonable, and inopportune, and-" she hesitated. "And sassy!"

For a long moment, Val regarded her seriously. "You're being a bit sassy right now," he said, and Charlie

felt her face get all hot with embarrassment.

"I guess you can tell Scott that then," she accused, and turned to look away.

"I guess I could," he agreed. "But, let me ask you something first. Did you look precocious up in the dictionary?"

"Yes. This morning," she said.

"Did you finish reading everything it had to say?"

"No. I had to go. Teresa kept hollering at me."

"Well, maybe you should read the rest of it when you get home, then. It also happens to mean quick, intelligent, clever, beyond your

years. All of that."

"It does?" Charlie asked, more subdued.

"It does."

"Oh."

"Uh huh."

Charlie swiped at her face, which still felt warm. "You think I'm that stuff?"

"Yes. I do."

"Oh."

"It was meant as a compliment, Charlie."

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, looking him in the eye. "For being sassy to you."

"I accept your apology." He smiled at her.

Charlie smiled back.

L


	35. Murdoch meets the man

On Saturday morning, armed with her weekly allowance from Scott, Charlie accompanied Murdoch to town. Some of the usual Saturday

errands were on the plan, and also, a possible trip to the café for a piece of pie. At least, that was included in Charlie's hopes

for the morning.

As they rode along, Murdoch asked Charlie what she planned to do with her allowance. Charlie jingled the coins in the pocket

of her overalls, enjoying the feeling.

"I thought I'd look around the mercantile," Charlie said. "And decide then."

Murdoch didn't say anything right away in response, and Charlie chattered on. "I bought a book last week. I think I'll get

something different this time."

Murdoch made an "Mmm" sort of response, and Charlie studied his profile. She had the sense that he was disapproving of her

answer, somehow.

"Should I not?" she asked him.

"It's your money to do what you wish to," Murdoch said.

"But you think I should do something else," Charlie stated.

Murdoch turned to look down at her. "I think it's good practice to save a bit of money, every opportunity that you have. It's

good preparation for the future."

"Like how much of it?" Charlie asked.

"Ten percent is the general rule of things."

Charlie did some rapid arithmetic in her head. "Is that six cents?" she asked.

"Six cents would be twenty percent," Murdoch corrected. "Three cents would be ten percent."

"So three cents?" Charlie asked him, looking thoughtful.

"That's right."

"Well, but what good is three cents?" Charlie asked. "I mean, you can't do much with three cents, really."

Murdoch settled an assessing expression on her. "That's not the right attitude to have about it."

"What is the right attitude?" Charlie asked.

"What I meant was, it's a good habit to get into. Saving a bit on a regular basis can add up. Three cents a week

would be twelve cents at the end of the month. Look at it in that way."

"Oh," Charlie said. She thought over what Murdoch was saying. She didn't want to tell him, straight out, that she

didn't really see the point to it. Not when she had thirty cents to count on, every single Saturday. But yet, she didn't want

to disappoint him. It seemed to be important to him that she do it, or at least consider it. And, after all, three cents wasn't so

much. She would still have twenty-seven cents to spend today.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the coins. Two dimes, a nickel, and five pennies. She took three pennies and held

them out to Murdoch.

"Would you keep them for me?" she asked him. "I can give them to you every Saturday, and that way I won't lose them."

"I'm not saying that it's something that you have to do, darling," Murdoch said. "It was a suggestion. That's all."

"I want to," Charlie told him. It was partially correct. What she wanted, was to please Murdoch.

"Well, alright then," Murdoch said, and smiled at her, reaching out to take the three pennies. "I'll put them somewhere in my desk. How's that?"

Charlie nodded in agreement, and put the other coins back into her pocket.

L

At the bank, Charlie sat in a wooden chair, swinging her feet, and waiting for Murdoch to complete his business. After that, they walked to

the post office, where Murdoch sent off some letters to a friend in Scotland. They went to have the wished-for pie, settling at a

corner table at the café. Wilma, the owner, was herself the one who came to take their order. She and Murdoch talked for a

few minutes. They seemed, to Charlie, to be well-acquainted with one another.

Once the pie had been brought to the table, Charlie tucked into her piece of gooseberry, letting her taste buds enjoy the

unusual tang.

When Wilma was ranting about the old man and his still-frequent efforts to go thru her

bins behind the café, Murdoch listened, appearing sympathetic, but he didn't really say too much at all. Charlie listened, too, and, in between bites,

she licked her fork.

"I don't know why it is that Val can't seem to take control of the situation," Wilma went on. "He just seems to pay no mind

to what that derelict is up to."

Charlie wasn't certain just what a derelict was, but, knowing how Wilma felt about the man, she was sure it was

not something favorable.

Wilma stepped away to take another customer's order, and Charlie took the chance to say, "Why does she care if

someone goes thru her bins? It's not as though it's something she wants anymore."

"It's her privilege to decide if she cares or not," Murdoch said.

"Well, but it's just mean of her," Charlie insisted.

"You can have your opinion," Murdoch said. "But, you need to be respectful about it." He raised his eyebrow just the slightest

hitch.

Charlie subsided a bit, and went back to her pie-eating, as Wilma prepared to return to their table.

Once they'd left the café, they walked to the mercantile. As Murdoch set about gathering the things on the list

Teresa had sent with them, Charlie wandered around the store. Even though she didn't plan to purchase a book today, she

still viewed that shelf, to see if any new ones had arrived. Eventually, she chose a game of Jacks, thinking she could play

them at recess with Rebecca and some of the other girls. With the money left, she thought she might purchase a bag

of jellybeans, so as to share with Murdoch on the drive home.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the old man come into the store. He was dressed as he commonly was, in dirty

denim pants and a brown shirt with torn sleeves. Today he walked with a limp. As he came on into the store, and began

walking slowly around, he passed by Charlie.

Charlie tried to catch his eye, but he seemed not to notice her.

She watched as he selected two apples, and a bag of cornmeal, and went to the front counter. Since Murdoch and other

customers were not finished with their shopping, the clerk stepped up to tend to the man.

Seeming impatient, the middle-aged clerk, (Charlie couldn't remember her name), said, in a sharp way, "That will be

twenty-five cents."

Listening, and observing, Charlie saw the man push two dimes onto the counter and across.

 _"Twenty-five cents," the woman clarified._

"Got but twenty," the man said.

"Well, then, you haven't enough," she snapped.

"Need the cornmeal," he insisted.

"Then return the apples. And make up your mind. I've got customers waiting," she said.

An expression came over the man's face. Charlie thought it was a mixture of fury, and shame. She felt herself holding her

breath.

She felt Murdoch beside her, and looked up at him. She saw that he'd been listening, as well, to what was transpiring between

the man and the store clerk. With a sudden inspiration, she reached out to touch Murdoch's arm, and when he looked

down at her, she held up the coins in her hand in a silent gesture of questioning.

 _'Should I? May_ I?'

Instead of answering Charlie, Murdoch instead said, very quietly, to the female clerk, "Put the apples on my bill."

"No need for charity," the old man said, gruffly. Then, swiftly, he took his sack of corn meal, and went thru the

front door.

Bewildered, Charlie looked up at Murdoch again.

Murdoch looked regretful, and ran his hand over the back of Charlie's head. He finished paying for the items on the

counter, and then, carrying the box of supplies, he and Charlie went out of the store. Loading the box into the back of

the buggy, parked in front of the mercantile, Charlie saw the old man, limping now, walking a distance away.

"Did you find what you wanted today?" Murdoch asked her.

"No. I mean, I was going to get a set of jacks, but then I didn't. I still have my money. I got to watching what was

happening, and-" Charlie let her voice trail off in explanation.

"Yes. It was unfortunate," Murdoch said.

Charlie looked after the man, still walking slowly, limping. It would take him a while, at this rate, to get far.

"May I go back in?" Charlie asked him.

"Yes. Go get your jacks," Murdoch said, looking indulgent.

"Not jacks," Charlie said. "I want to buy the apples."

Murdoch straightened to his full height, and looked down at Charlie.

"You heard. He said no," Murdoch reminded her.

"Yes. But, I think he'll take them. If it's not in front of other people, like it was in the store."

"What makes you believe that?" Murdoch asked.

"He took the fruit I took that time, to his cabin. And, once I told him that if he was really hungry, I thought you

would give him some food."

"You told him that I would?" Murdoch asked, looking surprised.

"Yes. And he said he knew who you were."

Murdoch studied her seriously, silent for a few long moments.

He put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Let's go back in," he said.

Thrilled, glad, Charlie went back inside. She fetched five apples, instead of two, and then went to the counter

to pay, also getting the bag of jellybeans that she'd thought of previously.

After paying, she turned to see Murdoch coming from behind her, a bag of sugar in his hand. He laid that on the

counter, and then told the woman working that he needed a pound of coffee, as well.

"A dozen eggs," he said then.

When those items had been placed into a box, they walked out, yet again. Murdoch set that box up into the buggy seat, and

then lifted Charlie up.

"There he is," Charlie said, pointing.

"Put your apples in that box there," Murdoch said, before climbing up himself, and taking up the reins.

"These are for the man, though," Charlie said.

"These other things are for him, too," Murdoch said. "Might as well have them all in one box."

Charlie gave Murdoch a full-out smile, her dimples showing.

Murdoch put the horse and buggy into motion, and it didn't take long to come upon the old man, limping his way along

the road out of town.

Riding up alongside of him, Murdoch spoke first. "We'd be glad to offer you a ride, the rest of the way to your place."

The man swept a look to his left and upward. "You be Murdoch Lancer. Ain't that so?"

"That's so."

"Murdoch Lancer offerin' me a ride. Never thought to see it."

"It's only a ride. But, I'd be glad for you to accept it," Murdoch said.

The man paused in walking, and Murdoch pulled the buggy to a halt, as well.

"Well, I'll be accepting it. And be grateful for it, too," the man said, then. In his lyrical voice. With corrected English.

Charlie scooted over closer to Murdoch, and held the box of groceries on her lap. The old man climbed up into the buggy.

And he did so, with surprising quickness, and ease of movement. Not with the stiffness of limb that he'd shown earlier walking.

Once in the buggy, Murdoch put the buggy into motion, and they began the short distance that was left to the man's

shack.

"The items in the box are yours," Murdoch said. He said it simply. Without fanfare.

The old man took a look into the box, observing the apples, coffee, sugar and eggs.

"It's things that everybody needs," Charlie spoke up.

"Needs are as the passing of scenery. Different for everyone according to their views," the man replied.

Charlie looked to Murdoch, who had a puzzled look on his face. Charlie could see he was startled by the change

in the old man's demeanor, and in his expressing of himself. Very different from just a few moments earlier.

Charlie lifted her shoulders just slightly, in an attempt to say that she would explain to him later.

Pulling up into the yard of the shack, Murdoch pulled up on the reins. The dogs, lying on the porch, raised their

heads, and then got up to come trotting forward. A low word from the old man, and they went back to their napping spots.

The old man hopped to the ground, with the agility of a man half his age.

"I'd be honored to have you step down, and be my guests for a time," he said, gesturing towards the shack, as though

to a palace.

Charlie gave Murdoch a quick, pleading glance, and Murdoch, though she could tell was reserved, nodded

in agreement. He carried the box as the three of them headed towards the porch. Once there, the man took the box

from Murdoch and went into the torn screened door. Wishing she could see inside the shack, now that she was this close,

Charlie went closer.

"Charlie," Murdoch said, and, knowing just what he meant, Charlie came away from the door, to stand next to him again.

When the man came out again, he carried a pot of coffee and had three tin cups hooked over his fingers.

Without asking, he poured a cup for Murdoch, one for himself, and one for Charlie, as well.

Charlie, not used to having coffee, looked at Murdoch, and he gave a brief nod.

"Thank you," Murdoch said.

"Thank you," Charlie echoed.

"How long have you lived around here?" Murdoch asked.

The old man sat down in one of the old chairs there, and gestured towards the others. Murdoch sat down, and Charlie

followed suit.

"Days become months. Months become years," he said, in response to Murdoch's question.

Murdoch raised his eyebrows, but asked nothing more. Just sipping at his brew.

Charlie, curious, took a drink herself. And very nearly choked. The coffee made her eyes water, and caused her to

nearly spit out the mouthful. She managed not to do that, only just, however. It was the worst thing she'd ever tasted.

Bitter. Strong. Nasty.

Murdoch, if he felt the same, was doing a fine job of hiding it. He continued to drink the coffee until the cup was

empty. At which point, he set the cup onto the upturned chest that served as a table on the porch.

"We'll be leaving now," he said, standing up.

Charlie stood up, too, setting her own cup down, though it was as full as it had been when she'd received it.

The old man looked at them, but only smiled, showing his missing teeth, and not speaking.

"There's work, if you need it," Murdoch said.

"Work is as elusive as the gold at the end of the rainbow," the old man said.

"Perhaps you're speaking to the wrong folks about work," Murdoch countered.

Instead of a response to that, the man was silent again.

"Thank you for the coffee," Murdoch said, and took Charlie's hand, beginning to walk towards the parked buggy.

Charlie waited for the man to thank Murdoch for the groceries, but he did not.

"Safe travels," was all he said to them.

"Can we tell him we'll come back again?" Charlie asked, looking up at Murdoch as they were nearly to the buggy.

"No," Murdoch said.

Charlie wanted to ask why not, but she kept still, until they were in the buggy and trotting back down the road. She turned

back to look. The man was still sitting on the porch, not moving. Charlie waved at him, but he did not wave in return.

Turning forward again, she looked at Murdoch, and then moved closer to him, hooking her arm thru his.

"He's interesting, isn't he? Just like I told you all, that he was."

"He is, at that," Murdoch said in agreement.

"He changes like that sometimes," Charlie went on to explain. "He'll go from being stiff and limping, to moving

real easily. And he goes from being gruff to talking like he was, all correctly, like he's making up a poem as he talks."

"I've never seen the likes of it, before," Murdoch said.

Charlie squeezed his arm. "It was nice, you buying the food for him that way."

"As it was for you, buying the apples for him."

Charlie brought out the jellybeans from her pocket. "I bought these, too. For us to share." She held the bag out to him,

and he took a couple out of the bag.

"My favorite," he said.

Charlie took a black jellybean, and popped it into her mouth.

"Murdoch?" she asked, after a few moments of quiet.

"What, darling?"

"Can you hire him? To work at Lancer?"

She'd surprised him. She could tell, by the look he gave her.

"That way he wouldn't have to go thru bins, looking for food. And he wouldn't be getting into trouble with Wilma, or the

other folks in town. Or with Val," Charlie went on.

"Have you considered the fact that if he truly wanted work, that he would find it?" Murdoch asked.

"No one in town will hire him, though," Charlie protested. "They all think he's criminal or something."

"Not criminal," Murdoch denied mildly.

"No good, then. A derelict. That's what that means, right?" Charlie persisted.

Murdoch sighed very lightly, and Charlie tightened her hold on his arm, pushing her point.

"There's lots of things he could do around Lancer," she said.

"I don't think that he would accept the offer, Charlie."

"He might," Charlie said, stubbornly.

Murdoch went on as though she hadn't spoken. "And, even if he did accept, I don't believe that it would be a good

thing."

"Why?" Charlie asked.

"It's a feeling that I have."

"Like an instinct?" she asked.

"Yes. Like that."

"Can we take him food again?" Charlie asked, changing her tactic.

"We'll talk about that. I don't want you to go alone, though." He turned to look down at her. "Are we clear on that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. Good." He smiled at Charlie. "Could I have a few more of those jellybeans?"

L


	36. A plan formulated

By the time they'd returned to the ranch, the sack of jellybeans had been finished off.

Charlie discovered this, when she peeked into the sack, and shook out the last two remaining.

"Two left," she reported. She handed off the red one to Murdoch, and then ate the orange one herself. "One for you, and one for

me," she said.

"It's not a good thing that we ate all of those on the ride home," Murdoch said, sounding regretful. But he still popped

the last jellybean into his mouth.

That made Charlie giggle a bit.

"I won't tell anybody, if you don't," she told him, and he gave her a mock-stern look.

"Next time, we must show some restraint," he said, sounding totally serious. "And only eat half of them. Agreed?"

Charlie giggled again. "I think you ate more than I did."

"Is that so?" he countered, as he pulled the buggy to a halt.

Scott came walking across the yard towards them. "How was the trip to town?" he asked, as Murdoch

got out of the buggy, and Charlie hopped down.

"We managed to accomplish everything we set out to do," Murdoch said, in answer, going around to the back to

retrieve the box of groceries.

"Good. How about you?" Scott asked, looking down at Charlie. "Did you spend all your allowance at the mercantile?"

"No. I have some left," Charlie said.

"You didn't spend it all on candy today, huh?" Scott asked, smiling at her.

"No. Only one bag of jellybeans today," Charlie said, and she and Murdoch exchanged a smile of comradery.

"Well, that's good," Scott said.

Charlie looked up at Murdoch, waiting for him to tell Scott about taking food to the old man's shack, and sitting to drink coffee

with him, and all of that. Murdoch correctly interpreted her impatience, though his comment, as they walked towards the

house together, was calm and matter-of-fact.

"Charlie used a bit of her money to buy some apples," he began.

"I'm glad to hear it. Apples are better for your teeth than candy any day of the week," Scott said, looking at Charlie.

"We put those with a few other items, and took them out to the edge of town. To the elderly man," Murdoch clarified.

By now, they were inside the house, at the door of the kitchen. The kitchen smelled of bread baking.

"What's this?" Scott asked, as Murdoch set the box on the table. "How did that come about?"

"It's rather involved," Murdoch said. "And I've got some papers to look over. Charlie and I can tell all of you about it

at supper." He patted Charlie on the back. "Can't we, darling?"

Charlie nodded. "Yes. We can."

"Hmm," Scott said. He looked interested. Wondering. But all he said was, "Alright. It sounds as though it's a good

story."

L

Friends of Murdoch's came to visit in the afternoon, and stayed for supper, as well. Mr. McRae and his wife. So the sharing of

the story about the old man had to be put off a bit. Charlie enjoyed the supper that Maria had prepared, eating two pieces of

chicken, and generous helpings of the dumplings and corn with red peppers. She was applying apple jam to her roll when

she realized that Mrs. McRae was speaking to her.

She answered the questions Mrs. McRae asked of her, but felt somewhat uncomfortable. It seemed as though that particular lady's

eyes were judging her, and finding her wanting in some way.

"You know, of course, that you're a very fortunate little girl," Mrs. McRae told Charlie. "To be able to live with a family like

the Lancers. Lots of children wouldn't be so blessed."

Before Charlie could formulate a proper response to that, Scott intervened smoothly.

"We're all fortunate to have found one another. Blessed. We, as well as Charlie," he said.

"Of course," Mrs. McRae said, and seemed to be a bit embarrassed. Charlie knew she shouldn't be glad about that part of it,

but she was. For some reasons that Charlie couldn't quite realize, that lady reminded her of Katherine.

Charlie was relieved when the guests finally took their leave soon after supper. They all helped clear the table of

the dishes, carrying them to the kitchen. Maria had left after the supper preparations, and Charlie was surprised when

Murdoch put water on to heat, and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Pausing to watch him, cups in her hand, Charlie asked, "Are you going to wash the dishes?"

"I certainly am," he replied.

"I didn't know you did that-" Charlie began, and then broke off, as Teresa giggled.

"I have many, and varied talents, young lady," Murdoch said, pretending sternness. "And you'd do well to remember

that."

Teresa laughed again, and Charlie smiled, too, as Murdoch said, as if issuing battle orders, "Gather up the rest

of the silverware. And be quick about it."

Scott and Johnny ended up wiping the dishes dry, and Teresa made cups of hot chocolate for she and Charlie to sip,

as they sat at the table, watching the three men do the cleanup of the kitchen.

"This is the way it should be," Teresa said, teasing.

"Nothin' to form a habit out of," Johnny told her.

When Scott asked, again, about the morning trip to town, and the taking of food to the old man, Murdoch explained the

basics to it, and how he and Charlie had taken a few items out to the shack, and given him a partial ride.

"So, what did you make of him, Murdoch?" Johnny asked.

"He's intriguing," Murdoch admitted.

"Harmless, do you figure?" Johnny asked then.

"I couldn't answer that for certain," Murdoch said. "He seems erratic, unpredictable."

"Unhinged?" Teresa suggested.

"It's hard to say," Murdoch answered. "I wouldn't like to say anything to condemn a man, based on limited knowledge."

He'd finished washing the dishes, and was drying his large hands with a towel.

Johnny hoisted himself up to sit on the high counter, as Scott finished drying the last few plates.

Murdoch went on talking, about how the man's tone and manner of speaking had changed so dramatically. "Intriguing," he said, again.

"That doesn't mean you need get any ideas about goin' out there by yourself," Johnny said, eyeing Charlie.

"No," Scott added. "Nothing's changed on that issue."

"I won't," Charlie said, wishing they'd keep talking and not focus on her.

"She understands what we expect of her," Murdoch said, his gaze now on Charlie. "Don't you?"

Charlie nodded. "Yes, sir."

In a softer tone, Scott said, "It was kind, you helping to buy food for him today." He smiled at her.

"It was just a few apples," Charlie said, shrugging lightly.

"It was a fine thing to do," Scott maintained, and Charlie smiled at him.

"Is he really in need?" Teresa asked. "I mean, is he going hungry, do you think?"

"I think he is," Charlie spoke up first. "That's why he looks thru the bins back of the café."

"Wilma's likely to aim a load of rock-salt in his direction one of these days," Johnny said.

"I think he has meager supplies, and not much income," Murdoch said, in response to Teresa's question.

"Well, can we take him some things, then?" Teresa suggested. "Baked goods? Eggs?"

Charlie, excited now that the family seemed to be on board with all of it, added, "Jelly, or jam? We have a lot of that."

"Let's not rush ahead of ourselves," Murdoch said. He looked thoughtful, and then looked toward Scott, and Johnny, as well.

"Let's decide together. A box of supplies-once a week or so? How does that sound?"

Johnny shrugged, and Scott said, "Sounds alright to me."

"Fine," Teresa agreed.

Murdoch fastened his gaze on Charlie, who had been still.

"What about you, sweetheart? Does that sound fair to you?"

Charlie nodded, suddenly finding that she had no words, really, to express what she was feeling.

The family had come together, and agreed to help the old man, and Charlie felt that he needed help so very badly.

She got up and went to wrap her arms around Murdoch's waist. "It's fair," she said simply.

"We'll leave it up to you and Teresa to decide what to put into the box," Murdoch determined, patting Charlie's back. "Agreed?"

"Agreed." Charlie squeezed Murdoch in appreciation, and then went to stand with Scott.

"One of us will always be along, though, every time," Scott added, looking at both Teresa and Charlie.

"That's fine," Teresa agreed. "I have no desire to go there alone."

L


	37. The Delivery

It was Saturday, late morning, when Charlie began coaxing Maria to begin packing the grocery box. So far, there were two

jars of jam, one of apple, one of pear; eggs; some of Maria's rolls; and potatoes.

When Charlie requested a ham, or a slab of bacon, Maria shook her head, and said, " _Pregunte al Sr Murdoch primero."_ 'Ask Mr. Murdoch first'.

Charlie had to wait until later, but when she finally had a chance to put forth her request to Murdoch, he was in the

midst of a conversation with Scott and a neighboring rancher. A wildcat had been spotted, several times, in the vicinity, and

the ranchers were becoming nervous about it.

Charlie listened with interest to the conversation, momentarily forgetting about her quest for meat for the box.

Scott was asking how near it was to the neighboring rancher's cattle, and how many spottings of it there had been.

The other man, (Charlie couldn't remember his name), was all for setting up a hunt for the cat immediately.

Scott seemed to want to take a more 'wait and see' type of outlook.

The other man commented that the penalty for waiting as Scott suggested would be the loss of cattle.

When the other man did eventually take his leave, obviously disgruntled, Charlie kept still for a few minutes, listening to

the conversation between Murdoch, Cip, Scott and Johnny, who by now had joined the group as well.

When the conversation had a lull, Scott looked to Charlie, who very obviously had something on her mind.

"What is it, kiddo?" he asked.

"We're packing the box, the food box," she specified, "And is it alright if we put a ham in?"

Cip left, walking back across towards the corrals, and Charlie waited for an answer.

Scott looked at Murdoch in question, and the older man said, "I think we can spare a ham."

"And some bacon?" Charlie added.

"Let's do with just the ham this time," Scott told her.

"Alright. Can we take it today? This afternoon?" Charlie asked.

"I imagine one of us can manage it this afternoon," Murdoch said. He looked towards his youngest son. "Johnny?"

"Yeah. I can do it," Johnny said, and Charlie gave a little bounce.

As the men began walking towards the house, intent on their lunch, Charlie had a sudden thought.

"Murdoch, can I put some of your newspapers in, too?"

When all three of them gave her quizzical looks, she added, "I know he reads. I saw a book on the table. Maybe he'd like

to have some newspapers to read. I won't take any of your newer ones, that you haven't read yet," she assured him.

"That's fine," Murdoch said.

L

Once she and Johnny were nearly to the shack, and then pulling up into the yard, there was a stillness about

the place. No dogs lay sleeping on the crooked porch. No old man was in sight.

"The dogs are gone," Charlie said, speaking her thoughts aloud.

"So?" Johnny asked her, as he pulled the buggy to a halt.

"They're just always there, that's all," she said, in explanation.

There was a scuffling noise to the side of the house, and then Charlie felt something sharp-feeling hit her on the shoulder.

"Ow!" she said, in reaction, reaching to rub at it.

"What?" Johnny asked, looking at her in surprise.

"Something hit me," she said, pushing her sleeve up to peer at the injury.

"Stung? A wasp, maybe?" Johnny asked, taking her arm and turning her so that he could see.

"I don't know. I don't think so," she said.

When he'd succeeded in getting her sleeve raised, he peered at the angry, red mark left on her upper arm.

"It is a sting?" Charlie asked him, trying not to wince as he poked about on it.

"Looks as though you were hit with somethin', alright," he said, frowning. He released her arm, and raised his head,

looking around the yard, and shack.

"Here," he said, and handed off the reins to her to hold. He got down from the buggy in one easy movement. He began to

walk around the front of the buggy.

"Stay there a minute," he said, quietly, to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, and in response, he only held a finger to his lips in a sign to be quiet.

Charlie held the reins, waiting, and watching as he walked up closer to the porch, but then, ducked around the side

of the shack, and vanished from her view.

It seemed like quite some time, but was in reality only a few minutes, likely, and Johnny reappeared from the same direction

that he'd gone. He walked up and went to the rear of the buggy, reaching in to pick up the box. Charlie hopped down, and

said, "What were you looking for?"

"Lookin' for whatever it was that gave ya that mark on your arm," Johnny said.

"Huh?" she asked, confused.

"I'm thinkin' it was the boys you got into a scuffle with before," he said.

"You mean Monte?" Charlie asked, as they began walking towards the porch.

"If he has red hair, then yeah, that's him."

"He was probably using a sling shot," Charlie said, and rubbed at her arm again. "Did he see you, looking for him?"

"Naw, he was tearing over the top of the hill already."

"Oooo," Charlie said, in frustration. "I'm going to get him, when he doesn't expect it-"

"I'll take care of it," Johnny said, and Charlie only had time to wonder what he meant by that, before they were at the

front door of the shack.

Johnny, his arms full of the heavy box, said, "Go on and knock. Let him know we're here."

So, Charlie did knock. And then knocked again, louder. She peered into tiny space at one corner of the window.

"I can't see anything-" she said.

"Well, we'll leave the box here, on the porch," Johnny said.

"Aw, Johnny, do we have to?" she pleaded, looking up at him.

"What do you suggest that we do, pequeno?" he pointed out. "He's not home, it doesn't look like, and I don't have time to

come back out here again today."

"Well," Charlie considered, "What if we leave it here, on the porch, and then an animal comes along and eats it? Or one of the dogs?"

"Then we'll take it home and come back another day," he said.

"Maybe if I knock louder?" she suggested, and Johnny raised his eyebrows, with a sigh.

"If you knock any louder, you'll cause the door to fall, from the looks of it," he said, dryly.

"Let me try," Charlie said, and proceeded to virtually pound on the door.

There was a bark. Just one.

"See? The dogs are inside!" Charlie said, triumphantly.

"That doesn't mean he's in there. Let's call it a day, and try again some other time," Johnny said, and began to step down

off the porch.

Charlie took the sleeve of her shirt, rubbing at the small, dirty circle of window and peering inside again. When Johnny had reached

the buggy, and reinstalled the box of groceries, he straightened up, and saw Charlie, still peering into the bit of window.

"Come on," he ordered.

"Johnny, I see one of the dogs-and I think the old man's sitting on the floor-" She squinted, peering in again. "Yes!" She turned

to look at Johnny, motioning with her hand. "Johnny, he is! He's sitting there! Maybe he's sick or something, and that's why he didn't answer

the door!"

Johnny walked the short distance back over and came up onto the porch. He leaned down and tried to see into the same spot that

Charlie had been looking.

"I can't seem a darn thing," he said.

"I do! I see him, sitting there," Charlie insisted.

"Well," Johnny straightened up to his full height, and looked as though he was thinking.

"What are we gonna do?" she asked, looking up at him.

Johnny reached out and tried the door, twisting the doorknob. "Locked," he said.

"Can't you bust the door in?" Charlie asked him, impatiently.

"I'd rather not," he said, giving her a quieting glance. "I'll go around to the back door, and try it."

Charlie nodded, and, though she didn't want anything to really be wrong with the old man, she couldn't help the

feeling of excitement at all the goings on.

She was still looking in the dirty window, trying to see if the man was moving, when Johnny reappeared from

the back of the shack. "Back door's locked, too," he said.

He was standing there, looking as though he was thinking hard about something, and Charlie said, "We're not just

gonna leave, are we? Without seeing if he's okay?"

Instead of answering directly, Johnny took out his pocketknife, and, opening the blade, he bent down, and began

inserting it in the space between the doorknob, and the frame. Fascinated, Charlie watched, as he had the door open

lickety-split. As he put his pocketknife back into his pants pocket, Charlie made a resolve to remember to ask him about

that later. How he'd learned to do that.

He pushed the door ajar, just slightly, and, without stepping over the entry into the room, he seemed to be looking

the room over. Charlie peered around him, and saw that the man was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the wall,

and that all three dogs lay near him. A rifle lay just beside him, as well.

He was so still that Charlie felt alarm set in. "He's dead," she whispered, in horror.

"He's not dead," Johnny said, and stepped on inside.

"Hey, old man," he said, pausing. And then, again, louder, "Hey!"

There was just the very slightest of movements, a twitch of the man's hand, and then he was still again.

Johnny walked slowly over, and first stretched his hand out, letting the dogs sniff at him. He crouched down then, and

spoke again, "Hey, old timer," as he shook the old man's shoulder.

The eyelids fluttered, and opened, fastening blearily on Johnny. "Who are you?" he asked, his tone gravelly.

Instead of answering, Johnny said, "You alright?"

The man seemed to try to move, as if to stand, but then sank back against the wall.

"Been better," he said, in answer. And then, he began to cough. A hacking sort of cough.

"See if ya can find a cup, and some water, pequeno," Johnny told Charlie.

Charlie immediately scrambled into action, opening cabinets, and searching for a cup. She found one that still had

something in it, and then realized there was no pump inside the house.

"There's no pump," she said, confused.

"It's 'round the side," Johnny told her.

Charlie ran outside, and around to the side of the shack, where a rusty pump sat. She had to pump the handle up and down

several times, until she got a stream of water to start. She filled the cup, and then went as quickly as she could back inside,

trying not to jostle the water as she walked.

"Here," she said, handing the cup off to Johnny, who was still crouched there, next to the man.

Johnny held the cup up to the man's lips, and the old man seemed to take a sip or two, then he pushed Johnny's hand

away. "That's enough," he snapped. "No call to drown me."

Johnny set the cup aside, as the old man's eyes focused on Charlie, in recognition.

"It's you, is it," he said.

"Yes. It's me," Charlie said.

The man put a hand up to his head, and it was then, when he brushed aside the black hair tinged with gray, that the lump

on his temple became visible.

"You've got a good-sized knot on your head there," Johnny said.

The old man made as if to attempt standing again, but, sank down, defeated.

"Just sit," Johnny told him.

Charlie looked about, and found a piece of cloth on the old rickety table. There were pieces of the same pattern all

over the table, and ribbons and thread. She brought one of the small pieces and dunked it into the cold water from the cup,

and then handed it to Johnny.

Johnny began to pat at the lump on the man's head with the cloth. "What happened to ya?" Johnny asked him.

"Nothin' that a drink of rye whiskey won't cure," the old man answered, and fastened his eyes onto Charlie. "Fetch me my

bottle, girlie. It's there-next to the bed."

Sure that whiskey wasn't the best thing, Charlie looked to Johnny for direction.

"Get it for him," Johnny said, and Charlie went to look beside the bed. Sure enough, a bottle of whiskey sat there, and she

brought it back, handing it off.

The old man took his teeth and pulled out the cork, and then took a long drink.

"What happened to your head?" Johnny asked.

"Somethin' caught me. Felt as though a rock."

A rock! Charlie looked at Johnny, and knew he was thinking the same thing that she was.

"More than likely it's them young'uns, and their tomfoolery," the man went on.

"Well, you got a good knot there for sure," Johnny said.

"I'll be right as rain in a bit," the old man said. "Help me stand, will ya, boy?"

Johnny took the bottle of whiskey and set it aside, and then more or less hoisted the old man onto his feet.

"Well, now," the old man said, standing there, a bit unsteady, as if trying to get his balance. "Let's go set on the

porch."

And, with a shuffling walk, he set out, the three dogs on his heels, and Johnny and Charlie following.

Once on the porch, he sank to a chair, the same one he'd sat in when Charlie had come with Murdoch.

"Well, sit down, sit down," he said, waving a hand.

Johnny took the chair opposite that Murdoch had used, and Charlie sat beside him.

"How's the fishin' today?" the old man asked.

Johnny wrinkled his forehead in confusion, and Charlie said, "We weren't fishing today."

"Oh, no?"

"No."

"It's a good day for it," the old man said. And then, he took a pocketknife and a piece of wood from the pocket of his

crusty overalls, and began to shave at it.

As the wood shavings fell, there was silence. He seemed to forget that Charlie and Johnny were even sitting there.

"You have a lot of trouble like that, with the kids, shootin' rocks at ya?" Johnny asked him.

Without looking up from his whittling, the old man said, "You that fella I heared about? The one that's so good with

the gun?"

Charlie looked at Johnny, wondering how he would answer. From what she understood, Johnny didn't talk much about

his past. At least, not where she could hear it, he hadn't.

Charlie didn't think Johnny was going to answer at all, but finally he did.

"Yeah, that's me," he said.

"You're but a young fella," the old man said. And then, quick as a blink, he seemed to transform, and he looked up, his eyes fastened on

Johnny. "Sometimes, when the door wouldn't open, it was that you weren't meant to see inside."

Johnny was startled, Charlie could see, by the suddenness of the correct English, and the lyrical sound to his tone. And, by the mystery of

the words.

"You blame yourself," the old man went on, still staring at Johnny. "But you should not. There was naught that you

could do."

Wondering what he was talking about, Charlie looked at Johnny, and saw that his face had gone from startled to

disturbed. The air seemed to crackle with energy. And with something else. Something that Charlie didn't understand.

Johnny stood up, and without speaking, went to retrieve the box of groceries from the buggy. He brought it over, and

up the porch steps, pausing. "There's groceries here," Johnny said. "I'll put 'em on the table."

No response from the man. Johnny flicked a glance at Charlie, and then took the box inside. Reappearing at

the door, a moment later, he said, "Let's go," to Charlie.

Charlie stood up obediently, and said, "We'll bring more food to you next week."

"The road is rocky. Stay to the edge," the old man proclaimed, his voice so smooth that it reminded Charlie

of melted butter. And, as always when he was in this state of mind, his words made no real sense.

They were to the buggy, and driving back towards town, when Charlie heard Johnny say something, very low,

that sounded like "Quirky old coot."

L


	38. Retribution

After his muttered comment about the 'crazy old coot', Johnny was quiet. It seemed to Charlie as though he was thinking hard

about something. To break the silence, Charlie said, "I hope he'll be alright. With that bump on his head, and all, I mean."

Johnny flicked the buggy reins. "He'll be alright," he said.

After a moment or so, Johnny added, "I figure that's he been thru a considerable amount in his time. He'll make it alright."

Johnny seemed to be certain about what he was saying, and Charlie found herself taking him at his word.

Charlie scooted closer to him on the buggy seat. "Do you think he's interesting?" she asked.

"He is for sure interesting," Johnny said.

After another moment or so of silence, Johnny said, "Have Maria look at your arm soon as we get home. Make sure it's alright."

Charlie rubbed her arm, in remembrance. "It's not so sore now."

"Well, have her look at it, just the same."

Charlie hesitated, and then studied Johnny's profile, curious. "Can I ask you something, Johnny?"

"You can ask me."

"He was saying strange things to you-I mean, sometimes he does talk sort of strange, like in riddles. But, it was almost as though

he knew things about you. Like, about how a door wouldn't open, and you weren't meant to see?"

"What's your question, pequeno?" Johnny asked.

There was an edge of impatience to his tone, and Charlie hesitated. "Do you know what he meant?"

Johnny sighed a little, and looked straight ahead. "I don't know how he would know anything about me. What's not already

common knowledge, anyway."

That wasn't a real answer at all. But, Charlie could tell he was done discussing it. His expression turned harder.

"I'm gonna take you home, and then I figure that Scott and I'll be makin' a visit to see the daddy of those boys."

"Oh," Charlie said, thinking that he sounded ominous.

When they came driving up to the house, Murdoch, who had been standing, and talking to Cip, came walking towards

the buggy.

"I was wondering about the two of you," Murdoch said, in greeting. "I thought maybe you'd run off to San Francisco, you were gone

such a long time."

"We stayed to visit with the old man," Johnny said, in response, hopping out of the buggy.

Charlie jumped to the ground on the other side, near to where Murdoch stood.

"Well, that's fine," Murdoch said. "Did he seem to like the food that you took?"

Johnny was coming around the front of the horse, and so Charlie answered, "I think he did. He never really says

much about it." Quickly, she added, "I'm sure he does appreciate it, though." She didn't want Murdoch to think the old

man was ungrateful.

"I'm sure he does," Murdoch said, giving Charlie a smile.

"Had a bit of a situation," Johnny said, standing now beside his father.

"What's that?"

"Those boys-" Johnny hesitated, looking at Charlie. "What's their names, pequeno?"

"Monte and John," Charlie supplied.

"They hit Charlie in the arm with a rock, and that was after they'd zonked the old man in the head with one. Gave him a heck

of a knot," Johnny went on.

Immediately, Murdoch's eyebrows drew together, and he looked furious.

"I gave a run after 'em," Johnny said. "But they were long gone. I didn't wanna leave Charlie to keep chasin' 'em."

"Chasing who?" Scott asked, coming up from behind them, and hearing only the last bits of the conversation.

Briefly, Johnny explained about Monte and John, and the rocks delivered via sling-shot.

Looking up at Scott, Charlie could see that the muscles in the side of his jaw were working in and out. He looked so angry that

Charlie felt a shiver go down her back. She was glad, immensely glad, that she wasn't the cause of that look of fury.

"Let me see your arm," Scott said, and began to push up the sleeve of her blouse. When he saw the reddened spot, now

already bruising, he began to touch it, and Charlie winced, though she tried not to.

All three of the men were inspecting it by now, and Scott said, "It's going to be painful for a couple of days." His fingers

were still gently rubbing back and forth over the bruise.

"Put some ice on it when you go into the house," Murdoch instructed.

Charlie nodded.

"They do this sort of thing to the man all the time," she felt bound to point out. This was her opportunity to show what

those boys were capable of doing to the old man.

"Go on along into the house, and put some ice on your arm," Scott told her.

"I'll unhitch the buggy," Murdoch was saying. "If you two want to get started over to the Johnson's house."

"Yep," Johnny said, and Scott nodded.

Charlie had walked a few feet towards the house, but had paused at Murdoch's words.

"Their father probably won't believe it," she ventured to say.

"That's not your worry," Murdoch told her, beginning to unhitch the buggy. "We'll see you two when

you get back home," he added, looking at Johnny and Scott.

"We'll get somethin' done," Johnny said, again sounding ominous.

L

Sitting in the kitchen a few minutes later, on a tall stool, Charlie was holding a pack of ice on her arm. Maria had

looked it over, as had Scott, and then instructed Charlie to hold the ice on until she said to take it off again.

Then she busied herself preparing something, handing the steaming cup to Charlie as she sat there on the stool.

Charlie, hoping it was hot chocolate, sniffed, and knew immediately it was not. What it was, she was not certain.

She looked at Maria questioningly, her nose wrinkled. It smelled strange.

"Te de la corteza del sauce," Maria said. _Willow Bark Tea._

Charlie took a tentative sip of the hot brew, and made a face. She shook her head at Maria. "It's bitter," she said.

"For pain," Maria said, in English. Then she gave a wave of her hand towards the cup, which was understandable in any

language. Clearly it meant, 'drink it'.

Charlie knew the Spanish word for sugar, and looked at Maria hopefully. "Azucar?" she asked.

Maria shook her head in a 'no' response, and waved her hand at the cup again. The room began to fill with the good smells

of the dinner cooking in the oven. Maria paused, wiping her hands on her apron, and came over, taking the ice from

Charlie, and inspecting her arm again. Maria nodded in approval, and took the ice pack away.

Charlie finished the bitter drink, and set her cup on the counter. She smiled at Maria, and went outside to do

her afternoon chores. Feeding the chickens, and gathering the eggs, and then she went to feed Gurth an apple. After

that, she went to swing on her birthday swing. Pumping the swing should only have used her legs, but Charlie found that

her arm hurt a bit while she was doing it, so she slowed the swing, and just sat in it, swinging her feet back and forth.

After a bit longer, she went to look for Murdoch. She found in his library, sitting at his big mahogany desk.

She went to stand beside the desk quietly, until he took notice of her, raising his head from his paperwork.

"Have you been on your swing?" he asked.

Charlie nodded.

As Murdoch bent back over his writing and numbers, Charlie stood quietly until he put his pen down.

"Would you like to read for a bit?" he asked her, and when Charlie nodded, they went to sit together on the settee,

while Murdoch read to her from the large geography book.

Maria came to the library door, and from the conversation between she and Murdoch, Charlie surmised that Maria

was going home to her own family, and that supper was done, and warming in the oven.

After that, they sat together, in the quiet.

"It's taking Scott and Johnny a long time," Charlie said, looking up at Murdoch.

"It seems that way. It really hasn't been that long," Murdoch told her.

He patted Charlie's leg. "Fetch some paper and pencils. We'll have a few games of Tic Tac Toe while we wait."

They were on their fourth game, when they heard the front door opening, and boots scraping.

"They're home!" Charlie said, leaping up from the settee, and, as she would have run to the door, Murdoch caught at

her wrist. "They'll come in here, just sit and wait," he said.

So Charlie sat back down, and then, got to her feet again as Scott came into the library, taking off his hat as he walked.

Charlie went to take his hand, looking up at him. She thought he still looked grim.

"Did you get things settled?" Murdoch asked Scott.

"I think we did," Scott said, going to the desk, and pouring himself a finger of whiskey.

Charlie, who'd let go of his hand while he poured the whiskey, now took it again in her own.

"Did their father believe you?" she asked.

"He believed us."

"That's good," Murdoch said, getting to his feet. "Supper's ready. Let's go to the table."

The table hadn't been laid yet, and Murdoch gave Charlie's shoulder a pat. "Let's set the table. You get the plates and I'll get

the silverware and napkins."

Since it was only the four of them, with Teresa gone visiting a friend overnight, it was decided to eat at the table in the kitchen.

The meal was tasty, with beef stew and Maria's cinnamon buns. Charlie was full of wondering about what had taken place

when Scott and Johnny went to visit Monte and John's father. But, the Lancer men's conversation didn't stray to that subject.

Finally she could stand it no longer. "What did Mr. Johnson say?" she asked.

"He's going to tend to the situation," Scott said. Which, to Charlie, was a very unsatisfactory answer.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means that it's likely both of those boys will be gettin' a good tanning," Johnny said, reaching for his second cinnamon bun.

"Oh," Charlie said, taking that in for a moment. She decided she was glad, if the boys got a whipping from their father. It

was terrible cruel what they had done today to the old man. Not to mention all the other times they'd teased and tortured the man.

Such a punishment was what they deserved.

She made a few more comments about the boys, and what bullies they were, until Johnny asked Scott to pass him

the tabasco sauce. Scott handed the bottle to Charlie, for her to pass it on to Johnny, and then he said, "We're done talking

about the boys for now, Charlie."

"That's right," Murdoch said, in agreement, getting to his feet, and beginning to stack the dishes. "There's other, more pleasant things

to talk about."

"Okay," Charlie said, as she began to help clear the table. "But, we can take the box of groceries to him again next Saturday,

can't we?"

"That's our arrangement," Murdoch said.

"Maybe we should go again, in the middle of the week, to check on him," Charlie suggested. "Do you think so?" she asked, looking

at all three of the Lancer men.

They exchanged glances between them, and then Scott came over, carrying several plates. "We'll see," he said, in answer

to Charlie's request.

Charlie wanted to persist, to wheedle, but, after this length of time in the Lancer household, she knew better. So, she sighed, and

dried the dishes as Murdoch washed them.

L

That night, after Scott had read a chapter and a half in the 'Eight Cousins' book, and then closed it, Charlie kept her

spot beside him.

"How does your arm feel now?" he asked her. "Better?"

"It's a little sore. Not bad," Charlie said.

"Well, let me see," Scott said, and Charlie pushed up the sleeve of her nightgown so he could view the bruised area. He ran his

fingers over it softly.

"It's going to be a real pretty purple by tomorrow," Scott said, with a teasing smile at Charlie.

After he'd released her arm, Charlie pressed against his side again.

"I hope Monte and John do get punished," she confided.

Scott reached out and laid the book on the nearby night stand. "It's out of our hands now, Charlie," he said. "It's between Mr.

Johnson and his boys."

"Why do they want to be mean like that, anyhow?" she asked Scott. "There's lots of things they could do for fun. Why would

they do something like that?"

"Only they know the answer to that," Scott said. He patted her knee. "Come on. Get under the blankets."

Charlie turned, reluctantly, and crawled under the blankets and quilt. She gave Scott a tight hug, and, though she thought she

wouldn't sleep, she did. A deep sleep. Just before she drifted off, Charlie wondered if Monte and John would be at church the

next morning.

L


	39. Hot and full of feeling

The Johnson's were indeed at church the next morning. Charlie was already sitting on the Lancer's regular pew, in between Teresa and

Scott, with Murdoch on the other side of Teresa. Johnny had elected to not attend church that morning.

The Johnson family came in, filing into a pew ahead and on the opposite side of the Lancer's. Charlie watched, as Mrs. Johnson came in first,

followed by their daughter, who was considerably older, then Monte and John, and lastly, Mr. Johnson, bringing up the rear.

Charlie found herself spending most of the service, watching the Johnson's, instead of listening to the sermon being preached. To her, it seemed

as though the two boys were more settled than usual. They didn't wiggle, or squirm, or whisper to each other, but stared straight ahead.

They weren't behaving like themselves at all. Charlie felt an immense satisfaction at that. They must have, she told herself, gotten

it good from their father.

The sermon seemed to drag on and on. It was warm, too, and Charlie had trouble focusing at all. She blew out her breath, upwards towards her

forehead, in an attempt to cool herself. It didn't really help, only caused her bangs to flutter, and also caused Teresa to nudge her ribs from one

side, and Scott to give her a mild look of censure.

There was a visiting missionary this morning, as well, and at first Charlie was glad about it. Thinking that it would be interesting to hear about

the travels of the man to faraway places. But, it turned out to be not so interesting after all. He had traveled to the Smoky Mountains, and spent his

time this morning recounting the differences in the church practices there amongst the mountain inhabitants.

Charlie found herself thinking longingly of a cold lemonade to drink, and being on her swing with the wind blowing thru her hair. The stockings she

was wearing were nearly insufferable. Charlie could feel the back of her legs sticking to the wooden pew. She squirmed, trying to get more comfortable,

and sighed. Monte, too, was squirming a bit now, and got the back of his head thumped by Mr. Johnson. He immediately stilled himself.

Charlie couldn't help the quick burst of humor she felt at that exchange. She leaned forward to see more efficiently, thinking there might be

more action from Monte or John, and found her humor failing as Scott, with the arm that was resting on the top of the pew behind her, touched

her shoulder.

When she flicked a glance up at him in question, he shook his head, just very slightly, and leaned to say, "Sit still", softly in her ear.

Charlie felt her face flame in embarrassment, but she sat back against the pew, determined to sit like a statue for the rest of the

service. When it was finally over, and people were standing, preparing to file out, Charlie found that her shoulders hurt from sitting so

stiffly. Once outside, she looked around for some of the kids from school to talk to. Lucy was standing beside her parents, and she waved.

Charlie waved back, but was glad to see Rebecca and Jason, standing with their older sister and her husband.

She waited until Scott took a break from speaking, as he was in conversation with one of the neighboring ranchers and Murdoch.

"Can I go and talk to Rebecca?" she asked Scott, and then before he could answer, she amended her request. "May I?"

Scott nodded, and Charlie ran to where her friends were at.

Rebecca was talking about how hot it was, and saying she wished they could go swimming at the creek.

"Or at least go wading," Charlie agreed.

"Maybe we can go," Rebecca said, hopefully, looking at Jason for confirmation.

"Not today," Jason denied. "Pa has chores for us. Remember?"

Before they were all called back to their respective adults, to head home, Charlie quickly told Rebecca and Jason about what

happened the day before, with the old man, and Monte and John shooting rocks. And, how Johnny and Scott had gone to the Johnson's,

to talk to the boy's father.

"I'll bet they got a good licking," Rebecca said, her eyes wide.

"No more than what they deserve," Jason said.

It was time to go. Rebecca's sister and mother were both calling to her, and Charlie said goodbye, walking back slowly

to where Murdoch and Scott stood, still talking.

Finally, as the foursome prepared to head back to Lancer, Charlie took the choice to ride home behind Scott on horseback,

as opposed to a seat in the buggy with Murdoch and Teresa.

They were traveling slowly, behind the buggy a bit, when Charlie made her request.

"Can we go swimming today?" she asked Scott.

"We'll see."

Charlie found that she was beginning to hate that phrase. It was so, well, so neutral! What did it mean?!

"It's hot," she complained., "And it will be cooler down by the water. Please, Scott?"

"I said that we'd see," Scott said.

Prickly with heat, and bad temper, Charlie found herself being, for what was now much less common of her to be, sassy.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, though not loudly. "Does it mean yes or no?"

Scott, though still urging the horse forward, turned his head just to the left to look behind at her.

"It doesn't mean yes. And it doesn't mean no. It means that we'll see," he said. "Or, would you rather I say no right now?"

Thinking of the cool water, and the shade of all the trees at the creek, Charlie shook her head.

"I wouldn't rather," she said, in honesty.

"Then stop," he ordered.

Charlie met his eyes, and then subsided, her sassiness gone, with just those few words from him.

Moments later, passing thru the midst of town, Charlie thought she was seeing something that wasn't there. An apparition, perhaps?

No, it was all too real!

"Scott!" she said, in utter horror.

"What?" he asked, sounding startled.

"It was Katherine-she went into the hotel!"

Scott slowed the horse's steps, but didn't come to a complete stop. "I don't think it could have been," he said.

"It was! She's wearing a blue dress-and she went inside. She's carrying a parasol-"

Now, Scott did pull to a stop. He leaned forward in the saddle, and turned to look at Charlie.

"It's likely someone who looks a bit like her-" he began.

"No," Charlie insisted, looking at him, her eyes wide. "I'm sure of it, Scott!"

Scott turned to study the front exterior of the hotel, as if he would find an answer there.

"Well," he said, in resignation, walking the horse to the hitching post in front of the hotel. "Only one way to find out, I guess."

He offered an arm to Charlie, and she grasped it, swinging to the ground. Scott dismounted after her, and then handed

her the reins to hold.

"I'll be right back," he said, and Charlie nodded, grasping the reins tightly in one hand.

It seemed an eternity to Charlie that Scott was gone. She saw various townsfolks that she knew pass by, who said hello

to her and then walked on. But, she was ever so glad to see Val, striding down the wooden sidewalk, his boots clicking on the

boards.

"Mr. Val!" she called.

Val looked to her, and smiled, walking over to where she stood. "Well, good morning, Just Charlotte! Although it's practically

the afternoon, isn't it? Pastor Curry must have gone over his time this morning by a bit, did he?"

Charlie nodded in agreement, and then looked up at the sheriff, her eyes wide with worry. "Scott went into the hotel," she

relayed to him. "I saw Katherine!"

"Oh. Is that right?" Val asked, looking first at Charlie, and then towards the door of the hotel. "Well, I wasn't around to

see the stage arrive this morning, so I wouldn't know." He looked down at Charlie again, correctly assessing that

expression of concern on her face. "I wouldn't worry," he said.

"I can't help it!" Charlie defended. "And, it must be her for certain, because Scott's been gone an awfully long time!"

"Well," Val said, taking the reins from her hand, and tying them to the post. "Let's sit down over here in the shade

and wait, alright? It'll be a lot cooler than standing there in the street."

They went to sit on the bench in front of the hotel doors, and, Val, with an intent to distract Charlie, took out his pocket

watch, and showed her the engraving on the back. He'd received it from the men under him in the war, and he regaled Charlie

with a long-winded story until such time that Scott came out again.

Seeing Val sitting there with Charlie on the bench, Scott paused, and Charlie leaped up.

"It's her, isn't it?" she demanded.

"Morning, Val," Scott said, as Val replied, "Morning, Scott."

Then, to Charlie, Scott said, "Yes. It's her."

"I knew it!" Charlie said, feeling her heart pound. "As soon as I saw her-I knew-"

"Settle down," Scott said, calmly. "There's nothing to get worked up about."

"What's she doing here?" Charlie demanded. "She's got no reason to be here!"

Scott rested a hand on the back of Charlie's neck. his fingers rubbing lightly thru her hair. "She's not here to cause any

problem to you, or to me," he clarified.

Charlie eyed him, in disbelief. "Then, why-" she began.

"I've got rounds to make," Val said, interrupting. "I'll talk to you later, Scott. And, to you, too, little miss," he said, to Charlie.

"We'll see you, Val," Scott said, in reply.

Charlie managed a nod at Val. "Bye," she said.

Left alone there, on the sidewalk, just the two of them, Charlie looked up at Scott. "I don't want to go for a visit with her, Scott-" she began

her protest.

"I didn't say anything about you going for a visit with her," Scott corrected. "Did I?" His look was intent, and Charlie subsided a bit.

"No," she admitted.

"Alright, then." He kept his hand at the back of her neck. "She's traveling with the group she's working with. The one with the friend of

my grandfather's, remember?" At Charlie's nod, he went on, "She's passing thru, and decided to spend the night here at the hotel. She planned

to send a message out to the ranch, and let us know she was here."

Still suspicious, Charlie eyed him, waiting.

"She would like to have supper with you," Scott said, and immediately, Charlie's face flushed with color.

"I don't want to!" she burst out.

"I meant, with all of us," Scott clarified. "Murdoch and I, Teresa and Johnny-all of us."

"Why?" Charlie asked, flatly, with cynicism. "What's her angle?"

For a moment, Scott was surprised into silence. He recovered, with a mild, "Charlie." In reproval.

He stepped off the sidewalk, going to untie the reins from the post. "Let's go," he said, as Charlie stood where she was.

She walked slowly over, and, after Scott had mounted, he held out an arm, and pulled her up behind him.

They were at the edge of town, when Charlie spoke. "Did you tell her we would?" she asked. "Have supper with her, I mean?"

"I told her to come out to the ranch at six o'clock tonight," Scott confirmed.

"So, you did say it was alright?" Charlie said, her tone accusing.

"Yes, I did."

"I don't see why," Charlie muttered, into the center of Scott's back.

"I do have my reasons for agreeing," Scott said, shifting in the saddle slightly to look back at her.

Charlie met his eyes, and then, resorting to past personality behavior, she turned her head, tossing it a bit, and looked

the opposite way, to the trees and houses to the right. Feeling stubborn. And self-righteous.

"Would you like to hear my reasons?" Scott asked, his tone still mild.

Charlie refused to look at him, still keeping her gaze to the right. "I'm just a kid," she said, the fury just barely concealed. "I don't have

anything to say about it. Grownups can do whatever they want."

Even though she wasn't looking at him, Charlie could still feel the intenseness of his gaze on her.

Then, not sounding mild, but almost angry, himself, Scott said, "Alright. Have it your own way."

And, with that, they continued the ride home to Lancer in silence.

LLLLLL


	40. Misunderstandings

The closer they got to Lancer, the worse that Charlie found that she felt. She was feeling all prickly inside, just thinking about Katherine, and

having to see her that evening. And prickly, too, at the fact that Scott had agreed to her coming at all.

The main reason she had the sinking feeling in her belly, though, was due to the silence between she and Scott. And, more than silence, too. It

was a silence full of disappointment. Misunderstanding.

Once they were home again, and paused in front of the corrals, Scott, without speaking, held out his arm to Charlie again. She took it, sliding

off, to the ground.

"Maybe Murdoch won't be happy about Katherine coming here," Charlie felt bound to point out, looking up at Scott. "I know Johnny won't be-"

Scott dismounted, his eyes never leaving her face. The look on his face made Charlie stop talking, her words trailing off.

Rather than addressing her interrupted comment about Murdoch and Johnny, however, Scott said only, "Go and change your clothes. Then I'm sure Maria can

use your help getting lunch on the table." His tone was terse, his expression, somewhat stern, Charlie felt.

Charlie felt her emotions bubbling up, up, up. She thought, very briefly, about saying something more, but that expression on Scott's

face had her changing her mind about that.

She turned and headed to the house, going into the welcome coolness. The smell of just-baked bread wafted thru the air. Once upstairs in

her bedroom, Charlie changed to her comfortable denim overalls. She was just finishing fastening the clasp on the second strap when she

heard footsteps she knew were Teresa's in the hall.

She went to the door, opening it, and stepping out into the hall.

"Where did you and Scott disappear to?" Teresa asked, coming to a stop beside Charlie. She, too, had changed into her pants and an older

blouse.

"I saw Katherine," Charlie said, pausing for effect. "So, Scott went into the hotel to talk to her."

Teresa was quite plainly surprised. "Really? What is she doing here?"

Pleased by Teresa's reaction, Charlie said, "She said she's passing thru town, and she wanted to have supper with us!"

"Really?" Teresa asked, again.

"Yes. And Scott said for her to come over here to have supper!" Charlie finished, with heightened indignance.

"He did? Did he tell Maria?" Teresa asked, now. "She'll want to know, so she can add a bit more to the meal for Katherine-"

"Who cares if she has enough to eat?" Charlie demanded. "She's too fat already!"

"Charlie," Teresa said, looking as though half-amused, half-disapproving.

"I don't see why she wants to come here!" Charlie went on. "I don't think she should! It's not right!"

"What's not right?" came a deep voice from behind the girls, and Charlie turned to see Murdoch, coming down the hall from

his own room.

They continued on their way down the stairs, as Charlie explained to Murdoch about Katherine.

"Hmm," Murdoch said, descending the stairs, and sounding unoffended, Charlie felt.

"I don't want her to come," Charlie complained, just as they came face to face with Scott in the front hall. Charlie felt her

face get hot. Scott, though, didn't address Charlie's complaint, if he'd overheard it at all.

"We're having a guest for supper this evening, I hear," Murdoch said, to Scott.

"Yes. We are," Scott said. He looked as though he was going to say more, but he paused, looking at Charlie. His voice, when he spoke,

wasn't so much stern, as it was simply firm. "Charlie, go on along and help Maria."

Again, Charlie felt that imp of frustration rear his head, and the urge to sass Scott was strong. But, the several months of being at Lancer,

and under Scott's, and the rest of the family's, structure and insistence for respect, won out. At least for the moment.

That didn't stop Charlie from heaving deep sighs, and stomping her feet a good bit harder than necessary on her way to the

kitchen.

L

At lunch, Charlie was subdued, eating her meal, but not contributing to the conversation at the table. Katherine's impending

visit that evening was not mentioned. Charlie found that her appetite was not at all what it typically was. She kept sending glances

towards Scott, feeling nervous and upset.

After lunch, Charlie helped Teresa clear the table, and then helped with the dishes. She was quiet, drying the dishes as Teresa washed them,

her mind full of swirling thoughts.

It was while the girls were doing this chore, that Scott came into the kitchen. He took down two cups, filled them with coffee, and then

paused by the sink. "Maria leave?" he asked.

"Yes," Teresa answered. "She went home. I told her we could manage supper. Do you think baked chicken would be alright to serve, while

Katherine is here?"

"No need for you to do that," Scott said. "Cold sandwiches would be fine. We have some turkey and ham, don't we?"

"We do," Teresa said, looking doubtful. "Are you sure, though? I mean, cold sandwiches aren't really what we serve to guests-"

"It's fine," Scott said. He smiled briefly at Teresa, and then his glance shifted to Charlie.

Charlie, who'd been surprised, a bit, by the conversation between Scott and Teresa, had listened carefully to the exchanged words, and

now met Scott's eyes. She felt somehow small in the face of that look. It wasn't that Scott was looking ferocious, or even angry. The look was

more of a questioning one. Charlie had the feeling, somehow, that he was requesting something from her. But, he said nothing, at least in words.

He gave a half-smile, and then took the two cups of coffee and left the kitchen.

As soon as he'd gone, and was safely out of hearing range, Teresa turned to look at Charlie.

"What's going on?" she asked, without preamble.

"Huh?" Charlie asked, her eyes widening.

"Don't do that," Teresa said, impatiently. "I know something's going on between you and Scott. Is it about Katherine coming here?"

Charlie turned away, carefully taking another plate from the drainer to wipe dry.

"Charlie," Teresa prompted, sounding irritated.

"I just don't want her to come here," Charlie said.

"Well, of course not, but, it's only one meal, after all. You don't have to go anywhere with her. Right?" Teresa pointed out.

"Right."

Teresa was quiet for a few moments, and Charlie put the dried plate into the cabinet, and then looked at Teresa, who was studying her intently.

"It will be over before you know it," Teresa said, in encouragement.

Charlie was silent, and Teresa said, "Are you upset with Scott because he told her she could come?" And then, still studying Charlie, she went on, "You are. Aren't you?"

Charlie decided she was not going to say anything more than what she'd said already. Teresa had that tone to her voice. The tone that

suggested that Charlie was wrong, somehow.

"I just don't want to see her," Charlie settled for saying.

As Charlie looked away, reaching for another plate to dry, Teresa caught at her wrist, turning her eyes back again.

"Do you think that Scott would do anything that was wrong for you? Anything at all?" Teresa demanded.

When Charlie was silent, only looking at her, Teresa went on, insistently, "I know you wish she wasn't coming at all-but do you think

Scott would let her come here and do anything to hurt you? I don't mean annoy you, but really hurt you? Do you think he'd allow that?"

"No!" Charlie said, immediately, in response.

"Well," Teresa said, letting go of Charlie's wrist. "There you go, then."

That was all she said, and the girls finished the dishes in silence.

L

After that, Charlie went outside. She sat on her swing for awhile, only swinging idly, though, and not at her usual full-out way.

It was while she was doing that, that she overheard, and saw, something that she was not meant to.

The voices from the front of the house, wafted thru the air. Charlie couldn't hear every word, but she could hear some. It was Scott, and Johnny, and

they were discussing something. Charlie stood up, still beside her swing, her hand on the rope, listening. She could see them now, as they'd

stepped a bit away from the house. Johnny was waving his hands around, and he looked mad. At least, it seemed to Charlie that he looked that way.

Scott, meanwhile, was standing there, his hands on his hips, just listening to Johnny. When Johnny finished speaking, Scott said something, and

then Johnny started up again. Whatever it was about, it was something that Johnny felt strongly about, Charlie mused.

Charlie had never really seen the two of them argue with one another. A comment here and there, said in impatience or irritation, yes, but never

a full-out argument.

She felt her stomach knot a bit. It felt wrong, somehow, seeing them at odds this way. At least, Charlie thought they were at odds. Maybe not, she told

herself. Maybe they were discussing something that had nothing to do with them, really. Like the wildcat that had been spotted nearby. Or something like that. She didn't

want them to be really, seriously, arguing with one another.

The words that she could catch were these from Johnny, "shouldn't blame", "waste of time", and "entitled".

Scott's return words were harder to make out. She did catch a couple. "No intention", and "well aware".

Charlie went closer, slipping over to the side of the house, and keeping her hands on the coolness.

They were done now, though. Johnny's expression was, Charlie thought, somewhat regretful, and he gave Scott's shoulder an affectionate

slap. Scott, in return, reached out to cusp his hand around Johnny's neck for a moment. Also in affection.

Then, Scott went back into the house. Johnny, meanwhile, stood there for a couple of minutes, facing the corrals. Charlie heard him heave

a deep sigh. And, then, though she hadn't moved, or made a sound at all, Charlie was shocked when Johnny spoke, without turning

around.

"What're you doin' there, pequeno?"

Charlie felt a chill go down her back at his perceptiveness. It was eerie.

"How do you do that?" she asked him, from where she stood. He turned, just slightly, to look over towards her.

"Do what?" he asked, looking out towards the corrals again.

"Know things. Like how I was standing there," Charlie said.

"It wasn't a hard thing to know," Johnny said.

"Did you see me?' Charlie asked.

"No."

"Hear me?"

"No."

Charlie came out from beside the house, and came over to stand nearer to him.

Johnny looked down at her. "It's not a good thing to eavesdrop, ya know."

Charlie felt her face flush hot. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. Not really. Besides, you were done when I walked over there, anyway."

"Ah," he said, and looked away again.

Charlie studied him for a long few moments. He looked serious, thoughtful, but not really irritated, or upset.

"What were you and Scott arguing about?" she asked him, quietly, worrying over his answer.

"If you didn't hear anything, what makes you think we were arguin'?" Johnny countered.

"From the way that you were standing. The way you were both-" Charlie hesitated. "Well," she said, "It just seemed as though you were."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, but didn't answer right away.

"What was it about, Johnny?" Charlie persisted.

"Whatever it was about, it's done now," Johnny said. "And whatever it was, it's between Scott and I, anyway." He reached out to tap a finger

on her nose. "Not your worry, pequeno, and not your business, either."

"Was it about me?" Charlie asked, with a sinking feeling. Somehow, she knew that it had been.

Johnny turned those vivid blue eyes on her, and Charlie should have been worried he might scold her for persisting, after he'd told her that it wasn't

her business. She should have been, and she was, a bit, but she had to know.

Johnny surveyed her seriously, intensely, and then he said, "Scott and I have our ways of workin' things out. Mostly, because he's a lot more

patient with me than I am with him. Now, no more about it. Hear me?"

There was no denying the authority in his tone, and Charlie succumbed to it. She nodded in agreement.

L

After that, Johnny went off towards the corrals. Charlie got the feeling that he wanted to be alone, so she didn't tag along with him.

Besides, she felt all stirred up inside, still. She couldn't shake the feeling that Scott and Johnny had indeed, been talking about her. What had she

done to have caused them to have words, though? Maybe she was wrong. Just the thought of it being a possibility made her stomach ache.

When she went back into the house, it seemed very quiet. No voices or sounds anywhere.

Charlie went to her bedroom, and curled up on her window seat, to read. She couldn't seem to focus on the words on the page very well,

though. She kept thinking over everything. The fact that Katherine was coming tonight. What Teresa had said in the kitchen earlier. Seeing

Scott and Johnny as they had been. The feeling that something was wrong between she and Scott.

Charlie had given up entirely on her reading, and was just sitting, looking out the window. There was a tap on her bedroom door, which she'd

left halfway ajar. She looked and saw Scott there, and sat up straight, looking over at him.

"You feeling alright?" he asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yes."

Scott came on into the room, walking over to the window seat. "I wondered if you were, since you're sitting up here. It's nice out, and I thought you'd

be with the kittens or your horse, taking advantage of the weather."

"I was just trying to read," Charlie said.

Scott nodded. He looked pensive, thoughtful, serious. "I wanted to talk to you, before it got any later."

Charlie felt her stomach knot tighter. He looked so serious. He was getting ready to get onto her for the way she'd been so sassy earlier, or

how she'd complained to Teresa and Murdoch about Katherine. And, she _had_ been sassy. She knew that she had.

"About tonight, as far as Katherine coming here, this is what I'm thinking of," Scott began. "I want you to come to the table, for the meal, and

I expect you to greet her, and answer anything she asks you. I expect you to use your manners, and be polite to her. Understood?"

Nothing that he said was a surprise to Charlie. She'd known he would expect all of those things. So, she only nodded, and said,

"Yes," in answer.

It was his next set of words that caught Charlie by surprise.

"When supper's over, though, you can excuse yourself, and bring your dessert, and come back up here to your bedroom." He paused, and nodded

toward the book she'd been reading. "You can read until it's time for bed. I'll come up as soon as I can to say goodnight, and read with you, if you

want me to."

Charlie found herself staring at him, wide-eyed. "I don't have to stay down there with her?" she questioned.

"No. Not if you don't want to."

"What if she says she wants to talk to me?" Charlie asked.

"Like I said, if she asks you something at the table, during the meal, then I want you to answer her. Beyond that, you don't have to

talk with her," Scott said.

Knowing, that after supper, the family would likely gather in the library with Katherine for a time, Charlie couldn't fathom his permission

that she didn't have to be a part of that. For a long moment, Charlie found it hard to swallow. She wasn't sure just why Scott was saying

this, but she was glad. So very glad.

"Are we clear on things?" Scott asked then. He still looked extra-serious, even for Scott, but his voice was kind.

Charlie nodded. She wanted to ask him why he'd decided this, but she just couldn't. It didn't seem the right time. And, she didn't want

him to change his mind.

"Thank you," she managed, weakly.

Scott gave her a half-smile., "You're welcome," he said. And, then he said, "See you later, then," and he was gone.

Charlie sat there for a few minutes longer, just looking at the door he gone out of, and feeling rattled. Unsettled, somehow.

She should be over the moon, happy, that she wasn't forced into Katherine's presence for too long of a time. And, she was. But, too,

there was something else. She felt ashamed, somehow. She slipped down the stairs, and outside, going to her swing, and pumping herself

high into the air, while she tried to work it out.

L


	41. Pleasantries

Despite Scott's comments about cold sandwiches being sufficient, Teresa had baked chicken in the oven and was preparing applesauce.

The kitchen was beginning to be filled with good smells, and with the back door opened, there was somewhat of a breeze coming in, cooling that

same air.

Charlie came in from being on her swing, and went to the sink, pumping water to wash her hands. She cast a look around at Teresa's

meal preparations.

"I thought we were having sandwiches," Charlie said, lathering her hands with soap.

"I thought this would be nicer," Teresa said.

"You don't need to go to such trouble for her," Charlie said.

"It's not to impress Katherine," Teresa said, pausing in her task, to look at Charlie. "I just thought it would be nice-I don't mind

cooking. Sometimes, I sort of enjoy doing it, having the kitchen to myself, and all."

"Oh," Charlie said. She'd been feeling let-down, as though Teresa was making a big production of supper for Katherine's sake. It had felt

of disappointment, and a bit of hurt feelings, too.

"Besides," Teresa went on, returning to her applesauce-making, "I want to do my part to make Murdoch proud. He believes in being

gracious to any guest, and I think Katherine should see what sort of a home that Scott really has provided for you here. She's seemed so-smug, every

time I've seen her. I'd like to show her a thing or two."

Charlie, now drying her hands, found her heart full of feelings for the dark-haired older girl, who was so calmly and precisely adding

spices to the applesauce.

Ah. Bless Teresa! She did have a point to all this supper-preparation, after all! Sort of a so-there! to Katherine. Teresa was really only looking out for Charlie. And, too, for

Scott.

Standing there that way, Charlie had some sudden thoughts. Realization.

She went up to stand beside Teresa. "I want to show her that, too," she said, quietly. "What sort of a home it is here, I mean."

Teresa turned, and their eyes met in understanding. "Then let's do exactly that," Teresa said.

L

Charlie went upstairs shortly after that, passing Murdoch on the stairs. Murdoch was already dressed for the evening, and he was buttoning

his vest as he came down the stairs.

"Where are you off to?" he asked Charlie.

"Going to wash up, before I set the table," Charlie said.

Murdoch gave a nod.

Once in her bedroom, Charlie stripped off the dirty overalls she was wearing. She stood in her chemise and drawers, washing her face. Then, she stood before

the tall wooden wardrobe, looking over her clothing. When it was just the family, it was usual for Charlie, and Teresa, too, to wear

pants to the supper table. When guests were here, then, mostly, Teresa would wear a dress, or a skirt. And, Charlie, sometimes, but it was, again,

not that common.

Scott hadn't set out a decree of what he expected her to wear to the table that evening. He hadn't said, so, as long as she was in something

clean, and looked neat, she thought he would be satisfied, even if it were another pair of her overalls. He was not out to impress Katherine, she

knew that.

Charlie rested her hand on her plainest dress, the one she usually wore to school most days. Maria must have washed and ironed it and hung

it back here in her wardrobe, all ready for school on Monday.

Then, she moved her hand, touching instead a pale yellow dress, a bit more lacy than the blue. It wasn't a church dress, but it wasn't exactly plain,

either. It was sort of an in-between dress, Charlie thought.

Once she was dressed, in petticoats and the yellow dress, she sat on the edge of her bed, pulling on her stockings. She decided to

wait until the last moment to put on her shoes. Might as well stay comfortable for as long as possible, Charlie thought. She stood in

front of her long oval mirror, brushing out her long hair, freed from the restraining braids. When all the snarls were brushed out, Charlie

looked thru her hair things. There weren't many bows or such. Charlie didn't care for those much. But, she did have some hair

ribbons that Teresa had gotten for her. There was a yellow one here, mixed in with the others. Not as pale of a yellow as the dress she wore,

but a sunshine yellow.

Charlie tied the ribbon around her hair, and gave herself a surveying once-over in the reflection of the mirror. She picked up her

shoes, and went out of her room, into the hallway, and down the stairs. She went to the kitchen first, and, after setting her shoes down,

she went to gather dishes from the cabinet. Teresa, pausing in her preparations, smiled at Charlie, without saying anything.

Charlie smiled back. She and Teresa understood one another. Maybe, by the time the evening was over, Katherine wouldn't be quite

so smug.

L

Charlie had the plates laid at the table, and was beginning on the silverware, when she heard the sounds of a buggy approaching

from outside. She finished the silverware, hearing the front door open, and voices in the entryway. She hastily finished the table setting,

and slipped back to the kitchen.

"She's here," Charlie told Teresa. She sat down in a chair at the kitchen table, and pulled on her shoes.

"I've got coffee made," Teresa said. "You can tell them that, and that supper will be ready in about twenty minutes."

"Alright," Charlie said. She went to stand near the library door, where the voices were coming from now.

She could hear Murdoch's voice, mixed in with Katherine's. And Scott's, too.

L

It took Charlie a moment or so, to work up her nerve. It wasn't that she was frightened, or anything like that. It was more, well, her

nerves were just all 'jangly'. Charlie gave herself a stiff talking-to, silently, in her head. There was no reason to be jangly, or nervous,

or anything like that.

It sounded like Katherine was discussing her stage ride here the previous day. Charlie stepped into the open library doorway. Not

wanting to interrupt the conversation, she waited, and after only a moment, all the adult eyes in the room landed on her. There was another

woman there as well, sitting beside Katherine. Murdoch sat in his over-sized chair, and Scott was half-sitting on the desk, a drink in his hand.

"Here's Charlie," Scott said, pushing off from the desk, and holding a hand out to her.

Charlie came into the room, going to stand with Scott. He rested a hand on her waist.

Charlie forced herself to look directly at her aunt. "Hello," she said.

"Hello, Charlotte," Katherine responded. "You look well."

"Thank you," Charlie said, politely.

"Charlie, this is Mrs. Horn," Scott said, introducing the other woman. "Mrs. Horn, this is Charlie."

The other woman rose, and put out a gloved hand. "Hello," she said.

Charlie took the offered hand. "It's nice to meet you," she said.

After that, Charlie looked up at Scott. "Teresa said in about twenty minutes it will be time to eat," she said.

"Alright," Scott said.

"There's coffee," Charlie said, then, and looked at Katherine and the other woman. "If you'd like some?"

She didn't miss the look of surprise on Katherine's face.

"That would be lovely, thank you," Mrs. Horn said.

"That would be fine," Katherine said.

"I'll get it," Charlie said, and looked up at Scott once more. His eyes were full of approval, and Charlie felt warm inside, just

seeing that.

She returned to the kitchen, finding Johnny sitting on the cabinet, eating a cookie and talking to Teresa. Charlie knew, instinctively, that

Johnny was avoiding Katherine until the last possible moment.

"They want some coffee," she said, and went about filling two cups with steaming coffee.

"How is the dragon lady?" Johnny asked.

"Johnny, hush," Teresa scolded, flicking him on the arm with her fingers.

"She looks the same," Charlie said, in answer. "There's another lady with her."

"Put out some effort, alright?" Teresa told Johnny.

"What for?"

"Charlie and I have decided to try something different, regarding Katherine. We've decided to be pleasant, instead of sour," Teresa said.

"Is that so?" he asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

"It's for Scott," Charlie said, in explanation. "To show her that-well, that he's-" Charlie hesitated, thinking of the correct words.

"That he's done a far better job with you than she ever could've," Johnny finished. "Is that it?"

Charlie looked to Teresa, and then back to Johnny again, and nodded. "That's pretty much it."

"Hmm," Johnny said, looking thoughtful. "Well, I'll do my part. I'll see if I can muster up some charm to throw her way."

"I'm sure if you dig deep enough, you'll be able to manage it," Teresa told him.

L

Charlie was smiling to herself, thinking of the teasing between Johnny and Teresa, as she headed back to the library. She reentered

the room, and handed off the cups of coffee to the two women.

"Did you want some now, too, Murdoch?" she asked, and Murdoch shook his head.

"No, darling. Not now. Thank you."

Charlie felt awkward for a moment or so, and Murdoch motioned to her with his big hand. "Come and sit with me," he told Charlie.

Charlie obeyed, and found comfort sitting next to the older man. She kept it in mind to sit up straighter, though, waiting, in case

Katherine wanted to talk to her.

And, she did. Sipping her coffee, Katherine mentioned the names of a few of the bank board members, telling Charlie that they

had asked after her.

Her first thought was that Mr. Beets would have told her if the other men had inquired of her, but she kept that to herself.

She settled, instead, for saying, "That's nice of them."

After that, she answered Katherine's questions about the local school, the teacher, the other children there, all of that.

"I'm sure you were miles ahead of the other pupils here, coming from such a larger school to one this small," Katherine said.

Thinking how to answer, Charlie was glad to hear Scott speak first.

"The school here is well-taught," he said. "They have all the necessary teaching supplies. Up to date and all."

"I'm sure," Katherine said, still managing to sound slightly disparaging.

"I like the school here," Charlie said, and at Katherine's raised brow, she wondered if she'd sounded too abrupt or such. A look to

her right up at Murdoch dissolved that concern. His eyes were twinkling at her.

Teresa came to the doorway, announcing that supper was ready. She spoke to Katherine, and was introduced to Mrs. Horn.

When they all walked to the dining room table, it was to see that Teresa had the platter of chicken there, in the center, and

side dishes, the applesauce, rolls and butter, salad, and baked potatoes there as well.

Mrs. Horn commented that the table looked lovely, with the candles in the center.

Johnny swooped in, in time to hold the chairs for the two ladies, and flashing his smile unsparingly. Mrs. Horn was quite obviously

impressed by him, and his attentions. Katherine seemed so, as well, though Charlie caught her studying Johnny as if puzzling over

him.

Supper passed without incident, and once it was over, Teresa stood to begin clearing the table.

"We'll have dessert in a few minutes," she said.

"How lovely," Mrs. Horn said.

Charlie got to her feet as well, and began stacking plates to take to the kitchen. She felt Katherine's eyes on her, and looked

up. Katherine now looked as though it was Charlie she was puzzling over.

"Your dress is quite lovely, Charlotte," Katherine said. "I meant to mention that to you."

"Thank you."

Johnny, with ceremony, held the back of Katherine's chair as she rose.

"I'll do this," Teresa said, in a low tone to Charlie, gesturing to the table.

"I'll help."

Once in the kitchen, though, Johnny followed behind, carrying glasses. "I'll help Teresa with the dishes," he told Charlie. "You go

on back in there and keep bein' sweet."

"Okay," Charlie said. "Are you both going to come back in, though?"

"When we're done here," Teresa promised. "Go on. For Scott, remember?"

So, Charlie went. She sat this time, beside Scott, opposite Katherine and Mrs. Horn. The talk was mostly on other things, though

Katherine questioned Charlie about what books she'd been reading. When Teresa brought in the cake, with Johnny carrying plates

and forks, Scott took the opportunity to speak quietly.

"You can excuse yourself, anytime, and go up to your room," he said to Charlie.

Charlie met his eyes. "I'll stay," she said, just as quietly.

L


	42. Exiting

Katherine and Mrs. Horn stayed for another hour or so after that time, and Charlie kept waiting for glaring blips or incidents in the conversation. At one point,

while Mrs. Horn rose to stand near Murdoch, and they began to discuss the paintings in the library, Charlie found Katherine's eyes on her,

looking as though she was contemplating something or other.

"Will you come and sit with me for a few minutes?" Katherine asked, gesturing to the spot next to her on the settee.

Charlie hesitated, feeling Scott's eyes on her. She stood up, and went to sit beside Katherine, on the edge of the settee, holding herself

up straight, and not relaxed.

"Have you made some friends here?" Katherine was asking.

"Yes. I have."

"Friends of standing?" Katherine asked then. "Children whose parents are worthwhile?"

For a quick flash, Charlie felt all the old feelings, the quick anger and impatience at Katherine's superior attitude rise up.

She looked to Scott, and he said, "They're good kids, Charlie's friends. Their parents are hard working people."

"So not thugs, then?" Katherine asked, and laughed a bit, as if she were making a joke.

"No. They're not thugs. They're just-" Charlie hesitated. "Regular kids."

"And is that what you want, Charlotte?" Katherine asked then. "To be 'regular'? Ordinary?"

"Yes. I think so," Charlie said.

"Do you think that's what your mother would have wanted?" Katherine asked, and Charlie felt stunned. What did Katherine mean by that?

Before she could think of a response, Scott spoke from his spot directly across from them.

"I believe Charlie's mother would have wanted her to be a compassionate person, that cares about other people's situations. Honest, and

curious. Loving. Charlie's all of those things. I think her mother would be very proud."

Scott's voice was quiet enough, but strong, and there was an underlying bit of steel to it. Charlie heard it in his defense of her, and wondered if

Katherine did, as well. She felt warm inside, hearing Scott talk that way.

She flashed him a look of gratitude.

Katherine, to her credit, seemed to be rattled, if only momentarily, by Scott's forceful reply. Two bright spots of color appeared in her

cheeks. "Of course," she said, in apparent agreement.

Johnny had long ago made his departure from the group, but Teresa, who was still sitting nearby, spoke up with spirit.

"Charlie's one of the kindest-she has a wonderful empathy for animals, and for people!" Teresa said.

Her self-proclaimed 'big sister' was taking up for her as well!

"I was only intending-" Katherine began, "That since Charlotte's going to come into a large sum of money when she's older, that she should

be introduced to things-culture, and people, that may not be readily apparent here. She'll need those skills to maneuver in the world of society."

By now, Murdoch and Mrs. Horn had halted their conversation, and were standing nearby, listening. Mrs. Horn looked somewhat uncomfortable, and

Murdoch's looked stern.

"Charlie will be able to mingle successfully with all sorts of people," Murdoch said. "Now, and in the distant future as well. An inheritance does

not a person make."

For the longest moment, there was a charged silence in the room.

"Charlie, it's time for bed. You can say your goodnights," Scott said. His tone was a bit clipped, but when she looked at him, Charlie saw that it

was not meant to be that for her. He gave her a reassuring half-smile. But, quite plainly, as well, he wanted her out of the room. And, that was alright

with Charlie.

"Yes, come on," Teresa said, standing, and holding out a hand to Charlie. "I'll go with you."

Charlie stood up, thinking this was her moment to make Scott, and Murdoch as well, truly proud. Katherine hadn't changed. Not at all. But she, Charlie, had.

She didn't have to be afraid, or worried that she'd have to go back to live with Katherine. The guardianship with Scott was solid.

So, she looked first at Mrs. Horn. "It was nice to meet you," she said, politely.

"I was happy to meet you, as well," that lady replied.

Passing by Murdoch, Charlie paused, and hugged his waist. "Goodnight," she said, and he patted her back.

"Goodnight, darling," he said.

Near Katherine, Charlie paused again. "Goodbye," she said.

"Goodbye, Charlotte," Katherine said, looking as though she wanted to say more.

"I hope you have a safe trip back to Stockton," Charlie said. And, she did hope that. After all, it's not as though she wanted the stage that Katherine was on

to crash, or roll over, or anything like that.

The surprise on Katherine's face was blatant. "Thank you," she said.

"Perhaps," Katherine went on, "If I'm passing thru again soon, we could have a luncheon together. Or, you could come to Stockton for a few days with me-"

She didn't mean the invitation. Not genuinely. Charlie knew that.

Before she could speak, however, Scott spoke for her. "We'd have to see about the lunch together in town here. But, staying in Stockton, that's not

something that's going to happen. Not anytime in the near future, anyway."

Katherine cocked her head at Scott, and again, there was heightened color in her cheeks. "I see," she said stiffly.

"Come on, Charlie," Teresa prompted.

"Goodbye," Charlie said, again, and went to go out of the room with Teresa, letting the older girl take her fingers in her own.

L

Going up the stairs with Teresa, Charlie gave her a look as the older girl heaved a couple of deep sighs.

"Teresa?" Charlie asked, in question.

Teresa looked at Charlie and then said, "Go on and get into your nightclothes. I'll brush your hair out for you. How's that?"

"Okay."

Once Charlie was in her nightgown, Teresa reappeared, leaving the door slightly ajar.

"Has she gone?" Charlie asked.

"I don't think so. I still hear lots of talking downstairs," Teresa said.

She went to pick up the hairbrush off the nightstand. "Come over here, and I'll brush your hair," she said.

Charlie came over and crawled up onto the high bed, and the two girls sat in silence for a few minutes as Teresa brushed out

Charlie's long hair.

"I wonder what they're saying now," Charlie wondered aloud.

"Whatever it is, you can bet Scott and Murdoch are setting her straight," Teresa said.

"Yeah," Charlie said, in agreement, thinking of how both Scott and Murdoch had spoken so strongly to Katherine. "That was pretty wonderful, wasn't it?"

"It was," Teresa said. She finished brushing Charlie's hair, and then laid the brush aside.

"I'm tired, I think I'll go to bed, too," Teresa said. She stood up. "Do you want me to turn the lamp down?"

"No. I'm gonna wait for Scott to come up," Charlie said.

"He may not be up for a while," Teresa cautioned.

"It's alright. I'll just lay here."

"Okay." Teresa leaned over and kissed Charlie's forehead. "Goodnight."

"Thanks for what you said about me downstairs," Charlie said. "About me being kind and having empathy, and all that."

"Well, we have to stick together," Teresa said. "Besides," she added with a smile, "It's the truth."

L

And, even with the light left up, and all the thoughts and emotions going thru her mind, Charlie was very nearly asleep. Stirred back to full

awakeness when the quilt over her was pulled up higher.

Charlie reached out and caught at the hand on the quilt. "Scott?"

"Did I wake you?" he asked.

"I wasn't really asleep," Charlie told him. "I was waiting for you to come up."

Scott sat down on the edge of the bed, Charlie still holding his hand.

"Did you brush your teeth?" he asked.

"No."

"Well, we'll let it go for tonight."

"Is Katherine gone?" Charlie asked.

"She's gone."

"That's good," Charlie said, with a sigh.

"She won't be back," Scott said.

"Not ever?" Charlie asked, surprised.

"I'm not certain about ever. But, not for a long time."

"Did you tell her not to come?" Charlie asked.

"No. I didn't tell her that. I think she knows it's best now."

"Oh," Charlie said, looking at Scott's face in the lamplight.

"I don't want you to worry about it anymore," Scott said. "Not about her coming here, or having to see her, or any of that. Alright?"

"Alright," Charlie said.

"I was very proud of you tonight," Scott said.

Charlie felt warmth filling her insides.

"I wanted to make you proud," she said.

"You did that."

"Teresa said we should show Katherine what sort of home this is," Charlie said.

Scott smoothed Charlie's hair away from her face. "That's nice," he said, softly.

"Are we going to read?" Charlie asked.

"No. It's late. You've had a hectic weekend. I want you to get to sleep. We'll read again tomorrow night."

"Okay," Charlie said, and sat up to give Scott a tight hug. When he'd recovered her with the quilt, he said goodnight and

went out, leaving the door still slightly ajar.

L

Riding to school the next morning on Gurth, Charlie put the thoughts of Katherine to the side, and returned to the subject of what had happened

on Saturday, when she and Johnny had visited the old man. She wondered what Monte and John would have to say, if they had anything to say at all.

Before she had set out for school, Scott had caught her after breakfast, and asked her if she wanted him to drive her into school in the

buggy. Because he thought she might be worried about Monte and John, Charlie knew.

She had said no, that she could ride alone, and would be fine. Scott had nodded, and then said she was to let him know

if either of the boys bullied her.

Once she'd left Gurth at the stable, and walked to school, Miss Susan was ringing the bell as Charlie approached, and she had to

run the last bit, so as not to be late.

When Miss Susan greeted Charlie in her bright, cheery fashion, Charlie responded a bit breathlessly, "Good morning!"

The morning's school work began, and it wasn't until mid-morning, when Charlie had her head bent over her reading book, that she glanced up to

look outside, at the clouds floating by the window, and before she turned her eyes back to the written words, she saw John glaring at her

from across the aisle of seats.

She met John's eyes with a stout look of her own. She was the first one to break the look between them. So, thus, at the first recess she

wasn't surprised when, while she was jumping rope with Rebecca and some of the other girls, John wandered over. He had a peppermint stick

in his mouth, which he must have been hiding in his pockets during the morning of school. He stood there, leaning against the side of the school

building, just glaring, not saying anything.

"What do you want, John?" one of the other girls asked him.

"I can stand here," John said. "There's no law against it."

So, stand there he did, biting off the end of the candy stick, and glaring.

Finally, Charlie could stand it no longer.

She stopped turning her end of the large jump rope, to glare back at John.

"What's the matter with you?" she demanded. "Why don't you go with the rest of the boys?"

"You're not the boss of me," John said. "I can stand where I want, when I want."

"Come on, Charlie," Rebecca said, handing off the rope to one of the other girls. She and Charlie walked away then, over to sit on the grassy

knoll where they usually ate lunch.

John promptly followed, standing just a few feet away, still silent, except for his chomping on the candy.

"You'd better stop!" Charlie said.

"I'm not doin' nothin', and you can't say I am," John said, sounding triumphant.

"Just ignore him," Rebecca advised, and Charlie tried. Unsuccessfully. Finally, she said, "I'm going inside."

She and Rebecca went inside the school building, and when Miss Susan asked them why, neither girl said anything about John. They

just said they wanted to sit and talk.

"He's just taunting you," Rebecca told Charlie in a whisper. "Mad cause his Pa took after him."

Charlie nodded, but was glad when recess was over, and the afternoon lessons began. John kept up his glaring, and it seemed that every time

Charlie looked up, he was doing just that. Monte, on the other hand, seemed to be avoiding looking in Charlie's direction. He was unusually

quiet and well-behaved.

At the afternoon recess John did more of the same. Tagging after Charlie wherever she went in the school yard, not saying anything, just

glaring, and making Charlie feel as though she was going to crawl out of her skin.

By the time school was over, Charlie just wanted to collect Gurth and go home. Thinking longingly of getting away from John's nasty looks.

Rebecca had told Jason what was happening, and so Jason offered to walk with Charlie to the stable, so as to prevent any problems from John

and Monte.

Jason's presence must have been a deterrent, because Charlie saw neither hide nor hair of either of the boys.

She set out for home on Gurth, still feeling let down and wrought up from her day.

Once at home, Jelly was just inside the barn, and he came out, his pig walking docilely behind him.

"How about that?" Jelly asked Charlie, gesturing towards the pig. "Walks behind me, just like a dog."

"That's good, Jelly," Charlie said. She slid down from her horse, and began to unsaddle him.

"More than just good, it's darn impressive, is what it is," Jelly corrected.

"Have you seen Scott?" Charlie asked.

"Last time I saw him, he was headin' over yonder," Jelly said, gesturing towards the west. "Fixin' on some fence over there."

Charlie stopped what she was doing, with the saddle cinch, and began to retighten it again. She left her books and lunch tin

setting on the ground where she'd left them, and mounted Gurth again.

"Will you tell Maria, or Murdoch or whoever asks that I've gone riding, looking for Scott?" she asked Jelly.

"Might as well be a messenger," Jelly complained. "Add that to my list of chores 'round here-"

"Thanks," Charlie said, ignoring his customary grouching. She rode behind the barn, and set Gurth into a gallop, heading in

the direction that Jelly had shared.

Charlie felt some better, after she began her ride, with the wind blowing around her face. It was easier, now that she was away

from school and John's pointed glares. She rode to the west pastures, but saw no sign of Scott, or of anybody else, for that matter.

She pulled Gurth to a halt, considering. Maybe Jelly had meant northwest, not just west. It seems as though she'd heard Johnny mention

something recently about the fencing up there needing attention. So, she rode on.

L


	43. Riding home

Eventually, Charlie came upon some ranch hands. Two of them. Working on a fence line. But, no sign of Scott with them. Or Johnny.

One of them, the younger one, his name was Blaine, told Charlie he hadn't seen Scott since the noon meal, but thought that he might have gone

further on north.

Charlie said thank you, and rode on. Finally, she came into new riding territory. Realizing she'd never ridden this far, even with Scott or any of

the other family members, she stopped looking along the fence lines.

Charlie cast a look up at the sun. She wasn't good at telling the time, the way that Johnny could do. But, it must be getting on

near to supper time. She'd best be getting on back to the ranch.

She had ridden for a bit, when she pulled Gurth to a stop, looking around. Nothing looked familiar. There weren't even any more fences

within sight to follow. Was this the way that she'd come?

She rode on, convincing herself that yes, this was the way she'd ridden before. Talking aloud to Gurth made her feel better.

"This is the way, isn't it, Gurth? I'm sure it is. See, that tree there? I remember it. I remember because it's branches are so

low to the ground-"

It was a short few minutes later, and Charlie stopped Gurth once again. Remembering something Johnny had told her once, about if

she ever became lost.

"Just stay put," he'd said. "Don't keep goin' round in circles. It's easier for a person to be found if they stay in one spot."

Charlie wondered if that pertained to this particular time. She paused, chewing on her lip, thinking, and looking around. She decided she

would do it. By now, the family would be gathering at the house. Scott would have likely discovered some time ago that she'd gotten home

from school, and ridden out again. He'd be out looking for her. So would Johnny. And possibly Murdoch.

If Jelly told them she'd ridden north, then surely they would find her before too terribly long. Before dark, for certain.

Charlie dismounted, leading Gurth a bit, and stood there, under a tree, out of the sun. While Gurth munched on the grass, Charlie thought

longingly of a cool drink of water. And food. It had been a long time since the lunch hour at school. Maria had probably had an after-school snack

prepared, too.

Charlie muttered an curse under her breath. One she'd heard often in Stockton, from the band of kids that had tormented the store

keepers.

"I'm sorry, boy," she said to her horse, hugging his neck. "I took you away from your afternoon rest and your oats and water, didn't it?"

Charlie paced back and forth for a bit, and then sat down for a while. The sitting didn't last long. She was too keyed up.

Enough time passed that Charlie passed from a bit worried about being lost, to full-blown nervousness. What if they didn't find her

before dark? It was going to get chilly in the night air. Not to mention having no water, and being hungry. She thought longingly of the

bit of a sandwich that she'd left, uneaten, in her lunch pail. And, now it was just sitting there by the corral, where she'd left it.

And then her thoughts turned to the consequences of this afternoon escapade. Besides the hunger and the thirst.

When they did find her, when not if, Charlie reminded herself, when they did find her, were they going to be angry?

She thought over that for a bit.

She had just assumed she would come right up onto the spot that Scott was working at on the fence line. She'd never considered

that she wouldn't find him at all. Or that she would get turned around, and lost. Still, she had broken one of the rules Scott had given

her. To never go riding off alone.

She was going to be punished, most likely. At the very least, she would be lectured. Scolded. Probably have her riding privileges

taken away.

She pressed her face into Gurth's neck.

L

By the time she counted to 2,000, they would have found her. That's what Charlie told herself. And Gurth. The number two thousand

was vast. Immense. So she began counting. Slowly.

Two thousand came. And went. Still, no signs of any mounted rescuers riding her way.

Three thousand, then. She would begin again. From zero.

Upon her arrival at approximately the number 2,537, Charlie gave up, and sat down in the grass again. She held Gurth's reins in one

hand, and bent her knees up to her chin, rocking back and forth a bit.

And then she saw something. Someone. It was Johnny! She scrambled to her feet, her shoe catching on the skirt of her dress.

By that time, Johnny was nearly up on to her. He was off his horse swiftly, and Charlie went to him.

"Are you alright?" he demanded, holding onto her upper arms.

"I'm alright-I got turned around-I didn't know which way to go," Charlie began. "I did what you said-and stayed in one

place-"

"Well, let's get you home. Everybody's plenty worried about ya," Johnny said. Charlie put her foot in the stirrup, and swung

herself up onto the saddle.

Johnny, still standing there beside Gurth, began to say something else, and then, before Charlie could even tell what was happening, with

a swiftness, Johnny drew his gun, and fired a shot towards the tree.

Charlie flinched, startled, looking around. "What-" she began to ask.

And then she saw just what it was. A snake was laying there, where Johnny had shot him. Right there. Only a short distance to the tree where she'd

been sitting all this time.

It was a long snake. Maybe five foot. And Charlie could see the end of the tail, and what was there.

"Is it-?" she began to ask, in horror.

"Yeah. A rattler," Johnny verified, reholstering his gun.

Charlie caught at her breath, sucking it inward. "I was sitting there-" she began.

"There's lots of snakes about," Johnny said. Looking at her ashen face, he paused, standing beside Gurth, and looking up at her.

He rested a hand on her knee, but said nothing. Just waiting, it seemed, for her to gain control.

"It could have bitten me!" Charlie burst out. She met Johnny's blue eyes with her own brown ones. "It's scary!"

He rubbed her leg with his hand, still not saying anything.

"Aren't you gonna yell at me?" Charlie asked. "For being so dumb, and riding out here alone?"

It wasn't that she wanted him to yell. She just wondered when he would.

"I'm not gonna yell at ya. I figure the best thing is get ya home. Teresa's about to have apoplexy, worryin' over ya." He went to his

own horse, took off the canteen of water that was hung over the saddle horn, and brought it back, offering it up to Charlie.

She took it, gratefully, and drank. A long, delicious drink of the cold water.

"Gurth needs a drink," Charlie said, wiping at the corner of her mouth.

"I reckon he does," Johnny said, and poured water in to his palm, presenting it to Gurth. Then he capped the canteen, and

gave Charlie's leg a final pat, and went to mount Barranca.

They began to ride together then, side by side. Charlie tried to slow her ragged breathing, but just thinking about that snake caused her

heart to pound.

When they'd ridden for a bit, in quiet, Johnny stopped, pulled his gun out, and fired into the air.

"Is that so they'll know you found me?" Charlie asked, feeling shamed.

"Yeah."

They rode on, and Charlie spoke up quietly. "Is Scott angry?"

"I figure he'll have somethin' to say to ya, alright," Johnny said.

Charlie felt her stomach drop a bit. Looking to his left, at her face, Johnny took pity on her.

"Mostly, he's worried," Johnny amended.

The rest of the ride to the ranch was accomplished in primarily silence. Johnny didn't seem inclined to make conversation,

and Charlie was consumed with her own thoughts, and worries.

L

By the time they finally reached the part of the ranch where the barns, corrals, and the house were within eyesight, Charlie

felt like a piece of wilted lettuce. Tired, still thirsty, hungry, and nervous.

Jelly was still beside the barn, when Charlie slid down off of Gurth.

"Went off and got yourself into a scrape, didn't ya?" Jelly accused Charlie.

Not caring if it was rude or not rude, Charlie didn't answer. She was just too tired.

Teresa came bursting from the house. "Are you alright?" she asked Charlie. "What were you thinking? We've been worried about you!"

"I'm okay," was all Charlie could manage.

"Let her breathe a minute," Johnny told Teresa.

"I'll untack your horse for ya," Johnny told Charlie, taking the reins from her.

"Thank you," Charlie said, dully.

Teresa herded Charlie into the house, and swept her past the silent, disapproving Maria. Maria put a piece of cornbread in Charlie's hand,

as Teresa urged her upstairs.

Taken into the washroom, the claw foot bathtub had the bottom half full of steaming water.

"Go on and get into the tub," Teresa told her. "I'll bring some more water."

There was no arguing with Teresa at this point. She was a force to be reckoned with. When Teresa went back out, Charlie stripped off her shoes,

dress, petticoats and stockings, and underthings. She got into the bathtub, and began washing, as Teresa reappeared, carrying more water

in one of the large pans.

Teresa promptly doused Charlie's head with the warm water, and proceeded to shampoo the long auburn curls. When she'd done that, and rinsed

Charlie's hair, she began picking up the clothes strewn across the floor.

"You tore your dress," Teresa said, pointing out the tears in the fabric.

"I guess I walked thru some brambles," Charlie said.

"Well, I brought you some clean clothes," Teresa said, gesturing to the denim jeans and soft blouse laying to the side.

"Thank you," Charlie said, looking up at the dark-haired girl standing beside the bathtub.

Teresa's expression softened. "Don't look so worried," she said.

"I can't help it," Charlie said.

"You know Scott-he's one of the calmest people there is," Teresa said.

"I know," Charlie said.

"You shouldn't have done it, though," Teresa went on. Unable, Charlie guessed, to resist her own private scold.

"I know," Charlie said, again.

"Well, get out of there, and get dressed. Maria's had supper keeping warm in the oven for a while now."

"Maybe I'll soak a while longer," Charlie said. "You and the rest of the family can go on and eat without me. I'll eat later-"

"You know that's not going to happen," Teresa said, promptly dismissing Charlie's attempt at prolonging the inevitable.

L

Once she'd redressed, Charlie went out of the washroom, peeking out into the hallway. The hallway was empty, and Charlie headed

to her own bedroom, intent on brushing out her wet hair, and avoiding, for a few more minutes, the scolding that was surely coming her way.

Startled, she came to a sudden halt in the open doorway of her bedroom. Scott was there, sitting on the window seat, leaning forward a bit, his

hands folded, and his elbows resting on his knees. Waiting.

"Hi," Charlie said, and to herself her voice seemed faint, very unlike its normal self.

"Hi," Scott replied.

Charlie stood there, uncertain at the moment of her reception. His eyes were steady on her.

"I messed up, huh?" Charlie said, hoping to see his expression soften. Just a bit, even.

Neither responding to the negative, or the positive of that statement, Scott sat up a bit straighter. "Come and sit down," he said.

Charlie went to sit beside him on the window seat.

"You know that you've broken a rule," Scott began.

"I didn't think of it that way-at first," Charlie said. "I was looking for you, and Jelly said that you were up that way, maybe."

"And that's a valid reason, you think, to ride off without letting anyone know?" Scott countered.

"I did," Charlie protested. "I told Jelly to tell Teresa or Murdoch, or whoever, that I'd gone looking for you."

"Jelly is not your messenger," Scott said, his tone stern. "Is he?"

Charlie shook her head, watching him tremulously. "No."

"And 'telling' Jelly, as you put it, that's not having permission, either. Is it?"

Charlie was still for a moment, her eyes searching his face, beseechingly.

"Charlie," Scott prompted.

"No," Charlie said, again, with a deep sigh.

She met Scott's eyes again, and said, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Alright. I understand that. But, could it have waited until I came back to the house? Something we could have talked about

tonight?"

"I guess so," Charlie admitted. "Yes."

"Is it something that happened at school today?"

Charlie nodded in response.

"Does it need to be discussed right now? Or can it wait until after supper?" he asked.

"After supper would be alright."

"Okay." Scott paused, studying her again.

"I'm very sorry for worrying everyone," Charlie said.

She was being genuine in her apology. Scott could tell that she was.

"Johnny told me about the snake," Scott went on.

At the thought of that, once again, the slimy snake being that close to where she'd been sitting, Charlie felt all shivery again. Tears filled her

eyes. Later, she would attribute the tears to the fact that she was tired, and hungry, and nervous over her 'misadventure', and near escape

from the snake. Not, she told herself, because she was a sniveling baby.

Scott wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, rubbing his hand up and down her arm in comforting circles.

"Pretty frightening, huh?" he asked.

"Yes," Charlie said, sniffling.

"Do you think you see the point to this particular rule now?" he asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yes. I won't do it anymore, Scott."

"Well, after supper, I want you to get some paper, and write something up. Things that could have happened to you today. More than the snake."

"How many words?" Charlie asked, knowing she was getting off lightly.

"I don't know. A few paragraphs," he said. "When it's finished, I'll read over it, while you do the rest of your homework. Then, later, we'll talk

about what it was that happened at school. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, and Scott gave her another hug. "Riding to and from school only, for the next week. No riding here on the ranch."

Expecting that, as well, Charlie nodded again, and sighed.

Scott gave her wrist a light tug, and pulled Charlie to her feet, positioning her directly in front of him. Charlie, who'd thought that any scolding, or

handing down of a punishment, was completed, felt her stomach flutter in nerves. This was the position that Scott always used when he

was preparing to give her an intense talking-to.

"This rule is for your safety," he began. "And my peace of mind," he added, with momentary humor. "So, after today's escapade, there is no

disobeying of it. If it happens again, it's a spanking for you. A serious one. Not just a couple wallops. Understood?"

Charlie gave another nod of her head, eyeing him tremulously.

"Alright. Let's go down and eat." He stood up, and took her hand in his own.

L


	44. A regal name

Feeling nervous, as they prepared to take their seats around the supper table, Charlie wondered just what Murdoch was going to

have to say to her. She thought that if he 'boomed' at her, she just might dissolve into tears. She was that tired and wrung out.

But, surprised she was to be. Murdoch only paused beside her, and then wrapped her in a tight hug, and then released her with a

pat to her back, saying nothing about what had happened.

Maybe he knew that Scott had already given her 'what-for', Charlie surmised. Anyway, she was glad about it.

At the supper table, Charlie was quieter than usual, concentrating on filling her empty stomach. Once she was done, and everyone began

rising to their feet, Charlie went, quietly, without speaking, to the library, where she retrieved paper from Murdoch's desk.

She sat down in the big wooden desk chair, and took a pencil, and set about writing up the paragraphs detailing the things that might

have happened during her solo ride to the west. It wasn't that difficult to write. She mentioned the fact of getting lost in the first place; the

concern that it might have gotten dark before she was found; that she had had no water with her; that the family had spent time looking

and worrying for her; and lastly, Charlie addressed the issue of the snake. She found that even when she squeezed her eyes closed, she could see

the snake all stretched out in the sun that way.

The family still hadn't come into the library at that point, for their after-supper drinks, and conversation, winding down from the day.

So Charlie began on her homework. Someone had left her books there, on the corner of Murdoch's desk. She was nearly done writing her

newest spelling words the required five times each when the Lancer men appeared.

They poured their drinks, and sat down, sprawled around the room.

Charlie put her schoolwork back into her books, folded neatly, and stacked them. She took the small report she'd written over to where Scott sat,

in the largest chair.

She handed it to him, silently, laying it atop his knee.

"I'm going to go to bed," she said quietly.

Scott nodded. "I'll be up soon."

Charlie said her goodnights to the others, tonight even giving Teresa a hug. She trudged up the stairs, feeling as though she could

sleep for a solid week.

When Scott came up, just a few minutes later, Charlie was in her nightgown, sitting cross-legged on her bed.

When he'd sat down on the bed, he said, quietly, "What is it that you wanted to tell me about?"

"It was John," Charlie began.

"And Monte?"

"No. Just John," Charlie specified.

"What did he do?" Scott asked. And, Scott, waiting to hear of shouted name-calling and other misbehavior by John, was startled into

silence for a moment by what Charlie said.

"He kept standing there-wherever I was," Charlie began. "And he was giving me these horrible looks. Glares. All during the day. Inside and

outside at recess-"

Scott waited for more. When there was nothing more forthcoming, he prompted, "Did he say anything he shouldn't?"

"No," Charlie said, considering. "He just said that he could stand wherever he wanted to, that I wasn't the boss of him, and there

was no law against it."

"Hmm," Scott said.

Charlie felt all stirred up again now, just thinking about it. "It sounds like nothing!" she said. "But it was 'something'! It was, Scott!"

"I'm sure it seemed that way," Scott said.

"Rebecca thought the same as me," Charlie insisted. "You can ask her!"

"I don't need to do that. I can tell it was upsetting to you," he said calmly.

"I didn't even want to stay outside at recess," Charlie said. "He wouldn't stop doing it."

"Well, it sounds to me as though he's put out because he likely got taken to task by his father, over the slingshot shooting," Scott said.

"I don't care why he's doing it, I just want him to stop," Charlie said, tiredness making her feel tearful again. That, in turn, made her put out

at her own self. She was nothing but a big baby, she accused herself.

"Let's do this," Scott said, in his matter-of-fact, calm way. "Let's see if he's over it by tomorrow. Tired of doing it. If he is, then well and good. If he's still

at it, then I'll have another talk with his father."

"No!" Charlie burst out. "That will just make things worse!"

"Well, alright," Scott said. "How about this? If he continues, we can talk to Miss Susan. Since it's happening during school time, she could

put a stop to it."

Charlie nodded. "That's probably right," she said in agreement. She brushed at the edge of her eye.

"Alright. Plan in place," Scott said, and gave her a slight smile. "Think you can sleep?"

"Yes. But, will you still read?"

"I'll read a bit," he said. And, he did.

L

The next morning at school, John, throughout the morning, kept up his glares across the aisle at Charlie. Determined to avoid his face, Charlie gave

up looking in his direction. At first recess, though, John went off to play with some of the other boys. A face which relieved Charlie immensely.

Perhaps Scott had been correct, in his prediction that John would tire of taunting her.

L

On Wednesday morning, before she left the house, Charlie took her turn, coaxing various family members to take another box of

groceries and supplies to the old man at his shack.

"It's been four days," she pointed out at the breakfast table. "And, he had that bump on his head and all," she reminded. "We should

at least check on him. He might have had another dizzy spell or something."

"You make a valid point, darling," Murdoch said, looking somewhat amused.

"So will you come for me after school, and we can go see him?" Charlie asked, pleased.

"I can't this afternoon," Murdoch refused.

"Today's not the best day for me, either," Scott said, as Charlie's gaze traveled 'round the table.

"Johnny?" Charlie said.

"Not today, pequeno," Johnny said.

"Awe," Charlie said, in disappointment.

"Manana," Johnny told her.

"I could go with you," Teresa said. "I'm supposed to be at the Stone's this afternoon. We're gathering books for the traveling library. I could

come by the school and get you when I leave there."

Instantly, Charlie perked up. "We could take eggs, couldn't we?"

"Eggs are good," Teresa agreed. "You can make a lot of things with eggs-"

"The two of you are not going there unaccompanied," Murdoch said, from his end of the table.

Both Teresa and Charlie looked to him. He was eyeing them over the top of his coffee cup.

"It's still early in the afternoon," Teresa said, in protest. "I'm sure it would be fine-"

"No," Johnny spoke up. "Besides, I thought you said you wouldn't want to go out there alone, anyway," he said, to Teresa.

"She won't be alone," Charlie said, in an attempt at humor. "I'll be with her. She'll accompany me, and I'll accompany her."

"Charlie," Scott said, in quiet reproof.

"We'll go another afternoon," Murdoch decreed, and stood up, pushing in his chair to the table. And, with that, he left the room.

For a long few moments, there was silence.

"Manana," Johnny said, again, to both Charlie and Teresa. "Start figuring out what you wanna put into the box."

Teresa stood up, and began stacking plates together with more force than necessary. Charlie, watching, saw there was splashes of

angry color on both her cheeks.

"What's your problem?" Johnny demanded.

"Murdoch. And-you," Teresa accused, pointing her finger at Johnny.

"What'd I do?" Johnny asked, holding up both hands.

"There is absolutely no reason why I can't take Charlie out there this afternoon," Teresa expostulated. "You've determined, haven't you,

that the old man is harmless? Strange, but harmless? It's ridiculous-I'm not some helpless twit-"

"Nobody said anything about you being a twit," Scott said, sounding calm, and soothing.

"You stay out of this," Teresa said. "You could have spoken up and defended this whole thing-but you didn't. So, just never mind now."

Charlie, fascinated, yet horrified at the same time, watched Teresa take after both Johnny and Scott.

"Whoo-wee, girl," Johnny said. He got up, going around to where Teresa stood, stacking dishes. "Settle down-no need to get all

worked up-" he went on, settling a hand on Teresa's shoulder.

Teresa reached up and pushed Johnny's hand off her shoulder.

"Don't-" she said. "Just don't. I can do more than have tea in town, and teach Sunday School, you know. I am perfectly capable-I just might

take a full box of groceries out there, anyway!"

"You'd best not," Johnny said, then, in a horrible voice. To Charlie, it was horrible. Quiet. But deadly intense. Unbudging. No sway.

"What Murdoch doesn't know won't hurt him," Teresa quipped, and as she would have turned to go, her hands full of dishes, Johnny

halted her, his hand on her arm.

"But what I know, might hurt you," Johnny said, in that same quiet, deadly tone.

Teresa stared at Johnny, her eyes flashing. "Are you threatening me?" she accused.

"No. I'm not. I'm promisin'."

Teresa gave him her full attention, and the tension between them had Charlie holding her breath.

"You are being ridiculous," Teresa said, again, but Charlie thought that she didn't look quite so forceful now.

"Fine. I'm ridiculous," Johnny said. "Just don't do it." He let go of her arm, and stalked out of the dining room.

Without another word, Teresa took her stack of plates, and stalked out of the room, as well, in the opposite direction.

Charlie looked at Scott, wide-eyed, and he returned her look.

"Hmm," he said.

L

Charlie didn't know what transpired between the time she left for school, until Miss Susan dismissed school in the afternoon. But, when

she came out of the school building, walking with Rebecca, she saw that Johnny was waiting, with the wagon, and Teresa beside him on the

wagon seat. Gurth was tied behind the wagon.

Charlie ran over to where the wagon was parked, feeling curious, but only saying, "Hi!" in greeting.

"Hi," Teresa answered, and moved over on the seat, to make room for Charlie. "Come on."

Charlie scrambled up, handing her books and lunch pail off to Teresa.

There was a box of groceries in the back of the wagon, Charlie could see.

"Are we taking the groceries-" Charlie began to ask.

Teresa nodded. "I put in two dozen eggs this time. And some bread. Butter. Cheese. A pound of bacon."

"That sounds wonderful," Charlie agreed. She gave Johnny a covert glance, as he turned the wagon, and proceeded on the way down

the main street, away from the school, and towards the road leading to the shack.

Charlie felt so curious about what had happened, to cause Johnny to change his mind about driving them out to the man's shack, when he and Teresa had

argued only this morning. But, she didn't want to say anything now, thinking it might make Johnny change his mind yet again about driving them. She

made up her mind to ask Teresa about it later, when they were alone.

As they rode, Teresa told Charlie that Scott was in town, as well, and was going to ride out to the shack with them.

Charlie felt really glad about that. Scott had never met the old man. At least she didn't think that he had.

When they were passing by the bank, Scott was just preparing to mount his horse. Johnny whistled comically and Scott looked up,

and Charlie waved at him.

When they got closer to the shack, Charlie could see the dogs, laying near the road, instead of on the porch. They set up an immediate racket, barking.

"Oh," she said, to herself, in disappointment.

"What?" Teresa asked, questioning.

"The dogs are by the road, not on the porch," Charlie said.

"So?" Teresa asked, obviously puzzled.

"It's just-if they're on the porch, and quiet, then that means he's gonna talk in his leprechaun voice, and be calm," Charlie said. "And if the dogs

are roaming around instead, and barking, then he's going to be in his-" she hesitated. "His other mood."

"What does that mean?" Teresa asked. "That makes no sense at all."

"I know it doesn't, but that's the way it is," Charlie said.

"Sounds like nonsense to me," Teresa said.

"It's not," Charlie protested. "Is it, Johnny?"

"It's a puzzlement, all the way around," Johnny said, in agreement. "But, from what I've seen of him, that sums it up alright."

"Now, I'm even more intrigued," Teresa said. "What's his leprechaun voice? What does that mean?"

"Maybe you'll get to hear," Charlie said, as Johnny pulled the wagon up, close to the shack, and pulled the brake.

Charlie had climbed down, and Teresa was doing the same, when Charlie went around to where Scott stood, after dismounting his

horse.

"I'm glad you came," Charlie told him, squeezing his hand. "Now you get to meet him-"

Scott gave her a half-smile, but looked reserved, as he usually did.

Johnny was already pulling the box of groceries from the wagon, and the four of them walked towards the shack.

The dogs were swarming nearby, barking.

"Do they bite?" Teresa asked, stepping closer to Johnny.

Before anybody could respond to that, the old man stepped from around the corner of the shack, shotgun in hand. If anything, he looked

more unkempt than he normally did. His shirt was far too large, and filthy, with what appeared to be dried blood on it. His pants were held up

with a piece of rope as a belt.

"We brought you some more groceries," Charlie said, speaking up.

The old man was silent, staring at the foursome.

Johnny, meanwhile, plowed on. "Want these inside or here on the porch?" he asked, without preamble.

The dogs were barking so loudly, it was difficult to focus on anything but the noise they were making.

Finally, the old man said something. Just one word. Charlie wasn't even certain just what it was, but the dogs immediately quieted, going

to stand next to him.

"I figure I can rustle up some coffee, if ya'd be interested," he said, and came walking up, and past the four of them, opening the

door to the shack, and going inside.

Teresa exchanged a look with Scott, and Charlie said, "Come on," and held the door open. Johnny went in first, carrying the box of food,

Scott and Teresa next, and Charlie at the last.

Inside, the cabin was even messier than it had been the previous weekend. There was papers strewn everywhere, and more projects spread

across the worn table. Fabrics, yarns, ribbons.

"Just set it down there, boy," the old man said, gesturing at Johnny, and then at the table.

Johnny set the box down on the edge of the table, and the old man went to the stove, where he busied himself pouring coffee into

cups, and bringing them two by two to the table.

"Well, sit, sit," he ordered, waving his knarled hands at them all.

Teresa waited to begin drinking her coffee, it seemed, but when Johnny picked up his cup and drank it, Teresa followed suit. Her eyes widened after

one small drink, and she coughed. Charlie, who knew why, having tasted the brew the previous Saturday, felt like smiling.

"I've got no cream to doctor it with," the old man said, eyeing Teresa. "Hope ya ain't one of them dainty females."

"It's fine," Teresa said, her voice sounding strangled.

"Who have ya brought this time?" he asked, looking at Charlie.

"This is Teresa, and this is Scott," Charlie said.

"Hello," Teresa said, politely, and Scott nodded in acknowledgement.

"You a Lancer, too?" the old man asked Teresa, peering at her.

Teresa hesitated, and Johnny spoke up. "That's right."

The old man turned his gaze to Scott. Still, he was seemingly in his 'rough' demeanor, saying, "You a mite on the young side

to be a daddy to the young'un, ain't ya?"

Charlie looked swiftly at Scott, wondering what he was going to say.

"Maybe so," Scott said, "But, I figure I'll age soon enough."

It was the perfect comment, at least it seemed so to Charlie.

She looked toward the old man with satisfaction, wondering what he would say next.

The old man studied Scott in a long, moment of silent study.

And then, he said, "There's always a reason within, even when there's those that refuse to believe," in that soft, lyrical tone that he

interchanged with.

Scott was regarding him just as seriously, and Teresa was looking somewhat startled at the swift and dramatic change. And the cryptic comment, which

made no sense, really.

"I imagine that's so," Scott said, quietly.

The old man smiled, looking pleased.

"You know our names," Johnny spoke up, sounding a bit curt. "What's yours?"

The old man swept his eyes to Johnny. "I'm known by many names," he said, still smiling.

"Well, what's the name you're usin' today?" Johnny persisted, and Teresa said, 'Johnny', in a very low voice, protesting.

With a flourished lift of his right hand, the old man said, "I'm known as Burlson."

"Burlson?" Johnny asked.

The old man gave a nod of his head, and then said, sounding regal, "Sir John Burlson."

L


	45. A Pauper or a Prince?

"Sir John, huh?" Johnny asked, barely concealing the skeptical tone to his voice.

"That would be correct," the old man said, sounding proud. He beamed at the four of them, sitting there at the table. "My friends call me Burl."

The old man's eyes seemed to take on a faraway look. "I had many friends then. The world was full of beams, and the nights were clear

as crystals-"

Teresa looked at Scott and Johnny, perplexed. Johnny gave a slight lift to his shoulders as if to say that he couldn't figure it out, either.

The old man's attentions came back to the group of Lancers at his table.

"That was many years ago," he said, sounding sad.

"And where was this?" Johnny asked, sounding determined. "Where the nights were clear as crystals?"

Charlie held her breath. Part of her wanted Johnny to keep on prodding the old man for answers, for information, but yet, he seemed so frail

at that moment. Old, and hunched over. He met Johnny's eyes, and then suddenly, without notice, changed before their eyes, and ears yet again.

"Ain't got no vittles 'round here fit to serve to company," he said, reverting to his defensive 'vagrant' personality.

"We don't need anything to eat," Scott said. "The coffee's just fine."

"Well, I best be puttin' these things in the larder," Burl said, and stood up, moving as if his joints were paining him.

Teresa got to her feet. "There's butter-and cheese," she began.

"I got eyes, girl. I kin see for myself," he said. He stood, pouring another serving of coffee into his own cup.

Teresa looked at first startled at his abruptness, but picked up a piece of the fabric on the table, running it between her fingers.

"This is beautiful material," she said.

"Pure foolishness," the old man muttered.

Scott and Johnny exchanged a look between them, and then got to their feet. "We need to be heading home," Scott said.

"Do ya?" the old man asked, pausing to look at Scott.

"Yes. Thank you for the coffee," Scott said.

Charlie stood up, reluctantly. She wished they were staying longer. It seemed as though they were finding out all sorts of interesting things

about the man. If only he could be kept talking.

As they made their way towards the door, Charlie tugged on Scott's sleeve. "Let's ask him to Lancer," she whispered.

Scott was preparing to shake his head in refusal, Charlie could tell, but Teresa overheard, and spoke up, "Good idea." She raised her

voice several notches to be heard.

"We'd like to invite you to lunch on Sunday," Teresa said, looking directly at the old man.

"Teresa," Johnny said, in a low tone. Reproving. He put a hand in the center of Teresa's back.

Teresa shrugged his hand off, and looked at the old man's surprised expression.

"The likes of me, at Lancer?" he asked, sounding incredulous.

"We'd like to have you," Teresa said, and looked to Scott for help. "Wouldn't we, Scott?"

Drawing on his Boston upbringing, Scott said, "You'd be welcome," in reply.

Charlie, meanwhile, was breathless with hope. This would be so wonderful! Maybe if the man started coming to the ranch-

Her thoughts were cut off abruptly, as the old man cackled.

"You're a good lass," he said. "And this one is, as well," he said, looking to Charlie.

"Will you come?" Charlie asked,

"I'll have to think on it," Burl said.

"Maybe Scott would come in and get you," Charlie went on.

"Charlie," Scott said, quietly. He looked at the old man. "We'd be glad to have you. We can come by after church and see if you've

decided if you'd like to come."

"If you've a mind ta," Burl said, in response.

When they'd said their goodbyes, which Burl didn't respond directly to, and they were on their way home, Teresa folded her hands

together, sitting beside Johnny on the wagon seat, and looking satisfied.

"There we go," she said.

"I don't know what you wanted to do that for," Johnny grumbled.

"Because it was the right thing to do," Teresa insisted.

Charlie, having elected to ride behind Scott on horseback, felt just as satisfied as Teresa did.

"Doesn't mean that he'll come," Scott said, in a cautionary tone.

"Why wouldn't he?" Teresa pointed out, leaning forward so as to address Scott more easily.

"I just think that he might decide not to," Scott said.

"He's loonier than a peach orchard boar," Johnny said.

"You're the one who told me not to judge him because he needed a good bath," Teresa reminded Johnny. "And now, you're doing the same thing,

just because he's a little strange."

"A little?" Johnny scoffed, stressing the word 'little'.

"I still think it was the right thing," Teresa insisted.

"You made the invitation, now it's up to him whether he accepts or not," Scott said.

It was evident the way that Scott spoke that he was weary of the conversation. When they'd ridden on, ahead of the wagon for a bit,

Charlie still couldn't resist the urge to question him.

"What did you think of him, Scott?" she asked, quietly, leaning to the right slightly so she could see his face.

"He's an interesting man," Scott said. "I imagine he has quite some stories to share."

"Do you think he's loony, like Johnny says?" Charlie persisted. Somehow, it was very important that she hear what Scott thought.

"I don't know that I'd use the word 'loony'. He's odd. Quirky. That doesn't constitute 'loony'," Scott answered.

Charlie settled back again, tightening her arms around his waist. "I knew you'd like him," she said, with satisfaction.

"I didn't say exactly that, did I?" Scott countered, turning his head to survey her.

"No. But, I can tell that you do," Charlie said.

L

At the supper meal of the day, the topic of conversation turned to the old man, and the extended invitation to Sunday lunch.

"If he comes, we'll make him feel welcome," was all that Murdoch had to say about it.

Charlie, finished with her supper, and lingering over her piece of blackberry cobbler, felt pleased with the way the

afternoon had gone. She had, she decided, quite an extraordinary family.

"Beets is coming for the weekend," Murdoch shared.

"He is?" Charlie asked perking up even more. She quite liked it when the banker come to visit.

"We'll think of something special to serve for Sunday lunch," Teresa said.

After that, Teresa began to describe to Murdoch the various colored bits of material that had been spread over the

man's kitchen table. She was puzzling over what he might be doing with all of them.

"I think he must be sewing something together," she pondered.

"We can ask him, next time," Charlie suggested. "If he's in his 'leprechaun' way."

"That's funny," Teresa said. "But he is sort of like a leprechaun, isn't he?"

"What's this 'Sir John' nonsense?" Johnny said. "That's what I wanna know. As if he's a knight, or a-prince, or somethin'."

"Maybe he is," Charlie said. She began to think wild thoughts of how the man might have come from far away, another country, where

he'd been born to a powerful and noble family, but had had to leave for some reason. Perhaps he'd had a forbidden love affair, or he'd

been swindled out of the family fortune, and had to leave in disgrace-

Her fanciful thoughts were interrupted by Johnny, who said, "Not likely, pequeno."

"He could be, couldn't he?" Charlie persisted, laying her fork on her now-empty plate. "Maybe he had to leave in a hurry-or maybe he's the second

son. You know, the first son in the noble families is the one who inherits everything-"

Johnny laughed, and a look around the table of adults, showed that they were all amused by what she was saying.

"We don't know," Charlie said, in defense. "It might be true-"

"We won't likely ever find out the truth to what that old man has to say," Johnny said. "It seems he can spin a tale that's hard to

beat."

Charlie shrugged at that, and helped to clear the table. She still liked thinking about it. Thinking that Burl might be from a noble family.

L

The next day Jason was absent from school. A fact which may have contributed to what befell Charlie. Monte was still acting subdued, and

behaving unusually well, (well, unusually well for Monte, anyway). John was back to his previous taunting. He followed Charlie around

at recess, wherever she went, whatever she was doing. He was still being cautious about what he did, and Charlie knew it was so

that if he was reprimanded, he could claim that he hadn't said anything he shouldn't to Charlie; that he hadn't touched her; none of that. He just

followed her, standing and chewing on his jaw breaker or whatever it was that he had as candy for the day, and stared at Charlie, staying always about

six foot away.

Finally, Charlie could stand it no longer. She told Miss Susan after the first recess. The teacher looked confused, perplexed.

"He's not saying anything that he shouldn't?" she asked.

"No. He stands there, or he follows me, and he glares at me-"

Miss Susan called John inside, and asked him about what Charlie said.

He widened his eyes, and pretended innocence. "I'm not sayin' a thing to her," John protested. "I haven't done anything."

"Stop following me around!" Charlie demanded.

"Charlie," Miss Susan said, in reproof. "We don't need to raise our voices."

Charlie felt her face flame hot. John gave Charlie a satisfied look.

"I haven't done anything, honest," John said.

"Well, let's agree that the two of you will stay your distance from one another for a time," Miss Susan determined.

John agreed, and smiled at the teacher, going back out to recess, a saunter in his walk.

"I'm sure things will be alright now," Miss Susan said, smiling at Charlie.

Charlie was reminded of something at that moment. Something she'd known before, when she lived in Stockton, but that she'd forgotten a bit

since she'd been at Lancer. Sometimes adults didn't know what they were doing. They just plain out and out were clueless. This was one of those

times. Charlie answered politely, but went about the rest of her day, deep in thought.

After school, walking out with Rebecca, her friend whispered to Charlie that Monte had gotten punished for pelting rocks from the slingshot

the previous Saturday, but that John had not.

"That's what some of the boys were saying," Rebecca said. "That's why Monte's behaving, and why John's still full of the dickens."

"Why didn't John get punished?" Charlie asked.

"Monte was telling that it's because John's his father's favorite-he's youngest, so he doesn't get punished often."

"Oh," Charlie said. "Well, Scott's idea of talking to Miss Susan didn't help much."

"Jason can catch John after school tomorrow," Rebecca said, in a whisper. "He can put a scare into him."

"I'll think of something," Charlie said.

She was coming out of the livery a bit later, leading a saddled Gurth. And there was John, waiting at the corner of the building. He jumped out as

she approached, and Charlie nearly screamed. She was that startled.

His cheek was bulging with yet another piece of candy. A jaw breaker, Charlie figured.

Charlie stopped, and fastened a furious glare on John. "You'd best stop," she warned.

"Stop, what? I ain't doin' nothing to you. I can stand here if I wanna," John said.

"That's not all you're doing, and you know it perfectly well," Charlie said. "You're going to get into trouble."

"Teacher believed me, didn't she?" John asked, with a smirk.

"Your father, then. You can get into trouble with him," Charlie said.

"Nope. My Pa only gets onto Monte. He don't blame me for nothin'."

"Monte's not here. You are."

John shrugged in apparent unconcern. "You're not the boss of me," he said.

Scott's often spoken words to her came to Charlie's mind. 'The only person you're in charge of is yourself. No one else.' That's what he

was always saying.

Charlie took a deep breath, and tried a different tactic. "If you didn't get punished for using your slingshot, then why are you doing

this? With me?"

"I feel like it," John said.

John took another couple of steps closer. "There's nothin' you can do, neither."

"I can pound your head," Charlie heard herself saying.

John's eyes widened in surprise. "You can't."

Charlie took a step closer to John, which did away with the space between them.

"I was in a gang in Stockton," she said, in a low tone. "If you don't leave me alone, I'll show you what they used to do to

to rotten kids who wouldn't leave off from bothering them."

John's eyes went wider. He believed her. Charlie could see that, and it felt really good. Wonderful, actually. Powerful.

She took it a bit further. Taking another step closer to him.

"And, if I decide not to show you what can happen that way, I could put a spell on you instead," Charlie said, very softly.

John backed up, until he was against the side of the livery.

"I ain't scared of no magic trick," he said, though he sounded frightened, indeed.

"It's not magic," Charlie said, stepping the few steps that John had retreated. "It's-well, it's a power. I can make things happen to

you."

"Nuh-uh," John denied.

"Well," Charlie said, shrugging in pretended nonchalance. "Go on and believe that if you want to. Or keep bothering me, and you'll find

out."

She picked up Gurth's reins, and mounted him, looking back to see that John was still standing there, his mouth half open, watching her.

L


	46. Magic, magic

That afternoon, when she reached the ranch, Scott came out of the barn to greet her.

"Hey there, kiddo," he said, in greeting.

"Hello," Charlie said, pulling Gurth to a halt.

"How was school? Did you get all your spelling words correct?" he asked.

"I got them all correct," Charlie said.

"Good job," Scott said, as Charlie slid down from Gurth's back.

They stood there, surveying each other for a moment, and Scott brushed back an auburn curl that had escaped from her braid.

"How about John?" Scott asked now. "Any problems with him today?"

Charlie nodded. "The same. I talked to Miss Susan, like you said."

"Alright. Good. Did that help?"

"No," Charlie said, bluntly.

"No?" Scott asked.

Charlie shook her head. "Uh huh."

"Why not?"

"Because he told her he wasn't doing anything wrong. And she believed him."

Scott surveyed Charlie, his expression serious, and taking in her tone of discouragement.

"I sure thought that talking to your teacher would help," Scott said, sounding regretful.

Charlie shrugged. "It's okay," she said.

"No. It's not. Not if it's going to upset you," Scott said.

"I bet he'll get tired of it, like you said he might," Charlie said. She had her own ideas of how to tend to John by now, anyway.

"Maybe so." Scott looked thoughtful. "How about we give it until the middle of next week? If he's still doing it by then, we'll figure

something else out. Deal?"

Charlie nodded. "Deal." As Charlie began to untack Gurth she said, "Besides, I really think he's going to stop by the middle of the

week."

"You do, huh?"

Charlie nodded, and Scott smiled and ran his hand over the top of her head. "Well, positive thinking on a situation is always a good

thing."

To herself, Charlie thought, 'yes, positive thinking, and a little threat of spells and such'.

L

The next morning at school, as Charlie was walking in with the other children, she saw John giving her a wary glance. Then, bravely,

he stuck out his tongue at her.

"Tell the teacher, she won't do nothin'," John whispered as he passed behind Charlie.

Charlie gave him a quelling glance. "I don't need to tell her anything," she said, really softly. She had the satisfaction of seeing

John's eyes widen, in a bit of worry, she thought.

She still hadn't formulated a clear plan of how to deal with John. But, she would, she thought. It was time to put him in his

place. He had his own father and Miss Susan bumfuzzled, but Charlie was determined to get the upper hand on his nonsense.

L

It was as Miss Susan came out to ring the bell after the first recess, to call the students back into the building, that Charlie got

her first idea of how to deal with John. Charlie was one of the first kids back inside, and the wind blowing thru the open door

swept papers off of Miss Susan's desk. Charlie and one of the other girls went to pick them up, stacking them back on the desk.

They were finished by the time the other kids came in, followed by the teacher. Charlie had made good use, or had good luck, with

those few moments, though. She had her first 'magic' trick to play on John.

L

She only had a few short moments, before class was called to order again, and the afternoon's study began. Charlie sidled up

close to John, and, doing her best to look 'magical' and mysterious, she whispered to him, "The spelling test from this morning? You

missed all of them-wait-" Charlie hesitated dramatically, "You got two correct. You missed the rest-"

John was staring at her, looking skeptical, yet wary.

"You don't know nothin'-" he began.

Charlie shrugged. "You'll see, I guess-"

And then, she very deliberately turned and went to her seat, turning her back on John, and keeping her smile to herself.

When the spelling papers were handed out, it took willpower on Charlie's part, to not turn around and watch John's face as

he saw his paper, marked exactly as Charlie had predicted. She forced herself not to look at John, thinking she would get

the satisfaction later. At the next recess, Charlie confided in Rebecca what she'd done.

Rebecca's eyes widened a bit. "Golly, Charlie, but you have nerve! I would never be able to fool somebody that way!"

"Well, I'm hoping he believes me," Charlie said, looking around for John.

"What if Miss Susan finds out you saw John's mark, and tricked him?" Rebecca asked. "I mean, she'll say it wasn't the right

thing, won't she? And you might be in trouble-"

"I won't be, because no one else will know. Just you and me," Charlie said.

"You aren't worried 'bout it?" Rebecca asked.

Charlie thought, briefly, of how Scott's face would look if he found out she'd taken a windy accident to attempt to frighten John

into believing she had powers of some sort. He would not be happy. That she knew. And, that part of it did indeed worry her.

"If this gets John to leave me alone, then I don't have to worry about it," Charlie said. Still looking around, for John, Charlie spotted

him, standing on the edge of a group of boys. It looked as though they were choosing up sides for a game.

"Come on," Charlie said to Rebecca as they walked over that way.

John saw them coming, and Charlie felt huge satisfaction at the expression on his face. Confusion, wariness, apprehension. Good, she

thought, feeling pleased.

"Maybe you shouldn't say anything else to him," Rebecca urged. "He's leaving you alone now."

"I just want to make sure," Charlie said.

"Hello, John," Charlie said, sweetly, when she was near to John.

"Leave me be-" John told her.

"What's wrong, John?" Charlie asked him, innocently. "You act as though you're bothered by something-is it because you found

out that I can, you know-" Charlie hesitated, lowering her voice dramatically, "do things?"

"You just guessed about the spellin'," John said, stoutly, though Charlie thought he looked still worried.

Charlie shrugged. "If that's what you want to believe-but how would I know? Unless I have powers?"

John took a step back. "Leave me alone," he said.

Charlie smiled, and went on to enjoy the remainder of the recess with Rebecca and her other friends.

7

That afternoon, after collecting Gurth, Charlie mounted, preparing for her ride home. She saw John walking along, running

a stick against the slats in the gates near the houses.

She trotted Gurth over and called, "Goodbye, John!" She felt a particular glee in seeing John look

panicked.

"Stop followin' me!" John hollered.

"Not so fun, is it?" Charlie said.

"I don't believe ya, anyhow!" John told her. "You don't have no-magic!"

"I'll prove it to you, again, then," Charlie said. "On Monday."

And then, she turned and urged Gurth into a gallop, looking back to see John's mouth hanging open.

L

Beets had arrived, and Charlie was glad to see him when she arrived home. She slid down off of Gurth, going to greet

the banker. Beets was already, Charlie saw, dressed in his working ranch clothes, and sitting outside in the shade of the house with

Murdoch. Both men had glasses of iced tea in front of them.

"Hello, Charlotte," Beets greeted her.

"Hello, Mr. Beets!" Charlie said, with a welcoming smile. "Hullo, Murdoch!"

"How was your day, darling?" Murdoch asked her, in greeting.

"It was good," Charlie said. She went to stand beside Murdoch's chair, laying her hand on his shoulder. "How was your stagecoach

trip?" she asked Mr. Beets.

"I came on the train this visit," Mr. Beets told her. "Murdoch picked me up at the depot."

"Oh. Have you gone riding yet?" Charlie asked him.

"I was waiting for you, to go with me to do that," Beets said.

"Do you want to go now? Before supper?" Charlie asked him. She looked at Murdoch. "Would that be alright, Murdoch?"

"Were you on riding restriction?" Murdoch asked, in a reminder. He asked it quietly, but Charlie still felt her face flame

in embarrassment. She'd forgotten all about that for the moment. Scott had said she was only to ride to school and back, no recreational

riding at the ranch for a week, because of her solo jaunt which had resulted in her getting lost.

"Oh," she said, quietly. She shot a glance at Beets, who didn't look shocked, or even particularly inquisitive. "I'll ask Scott," she

said, in amendment.

"We can spend time together doing something else," Beets said, agreeably.

"I'll ask Scott," Charlie said, again. It was while she was untacking Gurth, and putting him into the pasture with the other horses,

that Charlie remembered something else. Scott had told her she wasn't to ask or badger him about making an exception, or letting her off, when he'd

given a consequence for something she had done. Charlie thought hard, trying to remember his exact words. He'd said

if she did that, he would enforce more consequences. She was still thinking that over, when she saw Scott, and Johnny, too,

riding up from the south. She stood where she was, until they reached her.

"Hey there, pequeno," Johnny said, in greeting.

"Hi, Johnny." Charlie reached out to touch Barranca's nose. "Hi, Scott."

"Hey, kiddo," Scott said. He swung down from his horse. "How was your day?"

"It was good," Charlie said.

"I'm ready for a cold drink," Johnny said. "See ya at the house," he added, and cantered off.

"Did Beets arrive yet?" Scott asked.

"Yes. He and Murdoch are sitting outside, drinking iced tea," Charlie said.

"Good." They began walking together then, towards the corral.

"How about John?" Scott asked now. "How did that go today?"

"Better," Charlie said. "I think he's decided he should stop."'

"Really?" Scott asked, sounding surprised. "Just that like, huh?"

Charlie shrugged. "With John, who knows?" she said, vaguely.

"I guess that's right," Scott said, sounding a bit amused.

As they walked across the field, towards the barns and house, Charlie wondered if she should speak about the riding, or

hold her tongue.

"Is it alright if I ask you something?" Charlie asked.

"You can ask me whatever you need to."

"I don't want to ask if it's going to get me into trouble," Charlie said, in honesty.

"Why do you think asking me something would get you into trouble?" Scott asked.

"I'm just not sure if it will, or not."

"Hmm," Scott said.

"You sort of said once that I shouldn't ask what I was going to ask just now," Charlie said.

Scott looked down at her, and raised his eyebows. "I did?"

Charlie nodded.

By now, they'd reached the corrals, and Scott began unsaddling his horse, unbuckling the cinch.

"Well, if I've said that you shouldn't, I guess it's up to you, then, on whether you think it's wise to pursue it or not," Scott said,

giving her the full benefit of his glance. His tone was light enough, but Charlie saw that he was serious, too.

Under that quelling glance of his, Charlie retreated. "I guess I won't ask, then," she said.

"Want to take his bridle?" he asked Charlie, and she nodded, reaching up to remove the bridle. She carried that, and Scott

carried his saddle, and they went to put the tack away.

L

Charlie went to change her clothes after that, and did her chores outside. Once inside, she found that Marie had gone to her

cousin's to help tend sick children. And, in charge of the kitchen, and preparing supper for them all, were Teresa and Beets. Beets

had his shirt sleeves rolled up, and was stirring something with vigorous enthusiasm in a large bowl. Teresa, meanwhile, was

sitting on a tall stool, chopping vegetables on a cutting board.

Going to the kitchen sink, to pump water and wash her hands, Charlie looked at Beets in open curiousity.

"Do you cook?" Charlie asked.

"Every time I get the opportunity," Beets replied.

"Really?" Charlie asked, surprised.

"Certainly. Men can be very adept cooks, as well, young lady," Beets said, in mock severity. Charlie knew he was only teasing

her, though.

"I'm looking forward to eating Mr. Beets creation," Teresa said. "I'm sure Josh will enjoy it, as well."

And, at that, Beets began asking Teresa questions about her current beau, Joshua Banks. Charlie, who was in agreement with Johnny

about this particular young man, didn't care to listen to Teresa proclaim his attributes.

She took down the plates from the cabinet, and went to do her evening chore of setting the table for the meal.

When she'd completed the setting of the table, she went to gather some flowers from the garden, bringing them in and

placing them in a vase. Charlie was setting the vase in the center of the table, and was moving the flowers a bit

more, when Beets came into the dining room.

"That looks lovely," he said. "Did you arrange those, Charlotte?"

"I mostly just picked them and put them in the vase," Charlie said, in honesty, and Beets threw back his head

and laughed.

"I'm always reminded," he said, "of just how vivacious and charming you really are, my dear."

"You think I'm charming?" Charlie asked, pausing in her task to survey the older man.

"Very much so."

"And vivacious? That's good, too?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. It's good. I'd tell you the exact meaning, but I think it would be better for you to look it up yourself. Hmm?"

"Yes. I will. When supper's over," Charlie said.

"Very well," Beets said, and pulled a chair from the table, sitting down. "Can we sit for a few minutes, and talk?"

"Yes, sir," Charlie said, and pulled up the chair just next to his, sitting down.

"Tell me about yourself, what you've been doing, how your school is progressing, all of that," Beets instructed.

So, the two of them talked for a few minutes. Charlie told him about her schoolwork, and the friends that she'd made.

"You met Rebecca, at my birthday party," she reminded him. "She's still my best friend."

"I've very glad you've made some lasting friendships," Beets said.

After that, Charlie asked him if he'd known that Katherine had been in town.

"Yes. I did know that."

"And she came to supper," Charlie said.

"And how was that for you?" Beets asked, looking serious. "Was it awkward?"

"It wasn't too terrible," Charlie said. "Scott explained things afterwards. He said he didn't think she would be back again,

not anytime soon."

Beets nodded, quiet.

"At first, I was a little upset at Scott because he asked her here that way," Charlie admitted.

"Were you?" he asked, looking kind.

Charlie nodded. "But, I know he had a good reason. I mean, he wouldn't do anything that might hurt me."

"Truthfully, Charlotte, I'm sure he did it so as to protect you."

"Do you think I need protecting?" Charlie asked, feeling her belly jump with nerves. "I mean, is Katherine planning

to protest the guardianship-"

"No, no. Nothing like that," Beets said, quickly, to reassure her. "I didn't intend to alarm you." He reached over and patted

Charlie's hand. "What I meant was, I'm sure Scott felt that it might be best if he didn't alienate Katherine entirely. After all, there's no

point to having animosity between the adults in your situation. You don't want that, do you?"

Charlie considered, and answered honestly. "Well, I might have before. Wanted that, I mean. I didn't want any of

the family to like Katherine. Because then they might have thought that the problems were all my doing, and not hers."

"You no longer feel that way?" Beets asked.

Charlie looked at his earnest face, the face that had become so familiar to her over the last few months. She thought she

might have fibbed to him, so as to please him. She was glad, therefore, that she did not need to lie. She could answer honestly,

and truly. "No. I don't feel that way now," she said. "I know they all care for me, and love me, and that they won't stop. So, it's not

so important now that they dislike Katherine."

"I'm glad, Charlotte. Very glad, indeed, that you feel that way," Beets said, smiling at her.

Charlie smiled back. "Well, to be completely honest, though, I don't want any of them to be friends with Katherine."

Beets laughed, as he had earlier, at her 'flower arranging'. "I can understand that."

He studied Charlie for a long moment, looking serious again. "You've grown by leaps and bounds in the last few

months."

"Teresa's had to let down the hems on my pants," Charlie said.

"I'm sure of that, but that's not the growth I was speaking of," Beets said. "I meant, instead, the growth you've achieved

as a person. You've become much more attuned to other people's feelings, and thoughts. I see an increase in the way

you process your behavior. I believe you think things thru much more so than you did previously. Am I correct?"

"I think I do that more. Think things thru," Charlie agreed. "A lot of it is probably because Scott's so strict with me. I don't

like it when he's disappointed in me, so I try to keep that from happening."

"That pleases me, Charlotte," Beets said.

They smiled at one another for another moment or so, and then Charlie said, "Would it be alright if we went for a walk tomorrow, instead

of a horseback ride? I mean, you can ride if you want," she added hastily, "But, I can't ride here-at the ranch this week." She waited, hoping

she wouldn't have to explain the whys and wherefores of not being able to go horseback riding with him.

"Going for a walk would be lovely," Beets said. "Perhaps we'll find some more flowers that you know the name of."

L


	47. Let down

The food that Beets prepared for supper was very tasty. It was a stew, filled with meat and vegetables. There was something special

about the broth, Charlie thought. It was different than she'd ever tasted in a stew before. A loaf of Maria's bread accompanied the

stew. The group gathered around the table were in collective agreement that it was a fine meal.

Johnny himself ate three bowls of the stew, and then reached for another slice of the thick bread.

"How about you, Charlotte?" Beets asked. "Are you having more?"

"Oh, nooo, I'm so full that somebody may have to roll me out of here," Charlie said, and everybody laughed.

As everybody was getting to their feet, and pushing in their chairs, Charlie asked Beets what was in the broth of the stew to

make it have the taste that it had.

"Ah, that's a secret," Beets said, with a smile.

Teresa and her current young man, excused themselves, and went outside.

"All these dishes," Charlie said, with a sigh.

"We'll make quick work of them," Beets said, and began to help stack plates. Johnny began to gather up silverware

and glasses. "Company ought not to have to do dishes," he said.

"I hope I stopped being company around here some time ago," Beets said. "I prefer to be one of the family."

Murdoch put a hand on Beets shoulder. "And so you are, my friend."

Charlie and Scott dried the dishes, as Beets washed them, and Murdoch prepared a pot of coffee. To Charlie's

delight, Murdoch and Beets sang a song they both were familiar with. Their voices meshed together perfectly, it seemed to

Charlie. She found herself caught up in listening so that she was still drying the same plate for far too long.

 _"Oh, the summertime is comin'_

 _And the trees are sweetly bloomin'_

 _And the wild mountain thyme_

 _Grows around the purple heather_

 _Will you go?_

 _Lassie, will you go?_

"That's so beautiful!" Charlie exclaimed, when the two men finished their song.

"Well, thank you," Beets said, with a smile.

Charlie laid her dish towel aside, and went to wrap her arms around Murdoch's waist. "I didn't know you could sing

that way! You've been keeping it hidden!"

As they prepared to adjourn to the library, Charlie went to sit at the piano, sorting thru the sheet music.

"Will you sing again?" she asked.

"And you'll accompany us?" Murdoch asked.

"I'll try," Charlie said. "I don't know if I can keep up, but I'll try."

"Well, let's see," Murdoch said, and he and Mr. Beets began to look thru the sheet music for a song they both knew.

When they'd chosen one, Charlie looked it over, trying to see if she could accompany.

"It looks hard," she said.

"Let's see," Scott said, and he sat down beside her on the piano bench. After scrutinizing the sheet of music in front of him,

he began to play. He played a few moments, and then paused.

"You play piano?" Charlie asked, surprised yet again. "I didn't know!"

"I don't play so awfully well," Scott said. "But I can manage this, I think, if you help me."

Charlie's dimples flashed in her smile. "Alright!" she said.

So, they began. Charlie and Scott playing the piano, Beets and Murdoch singing, Johnny sitting and listening, and Teresa and

her beau coming in quietly to take places and listen as well. There was the occasional misplayed key by the two piano players, but

nobody seemed to notice, or mind.

Later, long after the clock had struck eight, and Charlie was finally sent off to bed, she went to sleep thinking that

it was the sort of evening that only a very special family would have.

L

On Saturday morning, after breakfast, Scott caught Charlie as she went to run outside, and said he needed to give out her

weekly allowance.

"Oh, I nearly forgot about it," Charlie said.

"Does that mean you don't want it?" Scott asked, pausing in the searching of coins in the palm of his hand.

Recognizing, and appreciating, his teasing, Charlie smiled at him, and shook her head. "No. I want it. Please."

"Well, alright then," Scott said, and plucked out a quarter and a nickel to hand to her.

Charlie took the coins, and then paused. "If I give you back the nickel, do you have five pennies, instead?" she asked.

"I might have some pennies," Scott said, reaching into his pocket again. "Why?"

"I have to give Murdoch three cents," Charlie said.

"You do, huh?" Scott asked.

"Well, I don't exactly have to," Charlie said, stressing the word 'have'. "It's just something he and I worked out. He's trying to

teach me to save money, and not spend it all."

Scott handed her five pennies, and she returned the nickel. "Well, that sounds like a very wise idea," he said. "Definitely better

than spending it all on candy every week."

"Sometimes I buy other things," Charlie defended, and then realized he was teasing her again.

L

Beets and Charlie went on their planned walk, and Charlie picked wildflowers, identifying the ones that she knew.

"I'll have to ask Murdoch or Scott what this one is," Charlie said, touching the petals of a blue flower.

As they turned back to start their return to the house, Beets asked Charlie if she had any questions for him

about the inheritance she would receive at age twenty-one.

Charlie looked at him, a little surprised. "What sort of questions?"

"Well, you're getting older now, and you're settled in here with the Lancers. I thought you might be in a spot where we should, or

could, discuss things about it."

"Oh." Charlie thought for a moment. "I don't think that Scott's changed his mind about taking money for having me here-"

"No. He has not," Beets said, and Charlie felt relief soar thru her. She would have been chagrined, sad, if Beets had said

differently.

"It's quite a large sum, as you know," Beets said. "There are certain opportunities available that we're required to offer up

at times."

Charlie looked at him, puzzled.

"Such as investments-that sort of thing," Beets said. He took in the look on Charlie's face, and smiled. "It's nothing that you need

to worry about. It's just things that I-and the other board members, need to discuss with a guardian, which now, of course is Scott."

"So Scott gets to decide what to do, or not do with the money?" Charlie asked.

"In some cases, he can either choose to follow thru, or veto something that's put before him by the board. Katherine, in her time,

had the same authority. Scott will be coming into Stockton soon to do this," he said.

"What are the investments for?" Charlie asked.

"The end-goal is to increase the holdings," Beets said.

"You mean, so to make more money?" Charlie asked.

"Well, yes, that about sums it up, I guess," Beets said.

Charlie shrugged. "I don't really understand."

"And, you don't have to. Not now. As you get older, closer to the time you'll inherit the money, then of course you

would need to start learning more about it all," Beets said.

"Did Katherine always want to do the investments?" Charlie asked.

"She did at times, yes."

Charlie was quiet for a few minutes, thinking. "I don't know what I'll do-when I get all of the money, I mean. It sounds like a

lot to take care of."

"You'll have guidance, Charlotte," Beets assured her.

"Scott, and Murdoch. And you, too," Charlie said, smiling at him.

"Well, I might retire one of these days from the bank," Beets said.

"So you wouldn't be around to help anymore?" Charlie asked, looking alarmed.

"I'd still advise you, if you needed it, and I was able to. In the capacity of friend, at that time, instead of banker or board member."

"You're my friend now, too, right?" Charlie asked him.

"I'm proud to say that I am, indeed," Beets said.

L

The next morning, Sunday morning, Charlie was all in a dither, thinking about Burl coming to Sunday dinner.

Chattering on about it, already dressed for church, and sitting on the edge of Scott's bed, watching as he tied his tie.

"You need remember that he may not come," Scott cautioned her.

During the church service itself, Charlie, sitting between Mr. Beets and Murdoch on the long church pew, saw John looking

her way. It gave Charlie a definite satisfaction to see him turn swiftly away.

After church it was decided that Murdoch would ride out to the shack and see if they were to have Burl as an extra dinner guest.

"I'll ride on home with Scott then," Teresa said. "Mr. Beets?" she asked.

"I'll ride along with you, if I may," Beets told her. "I need to get my bag packed so I'll be ready to leave this afternoon

on the stage."

Charlie gave Murdoch an upwards glance. "Can I ride with you?" she asked. "Please?"

"It's 'may I'," Murdoch corrected.

"May I?" Charlie amended.

"Scott?" Murdoch asked.

"It's alright with me, if you don't mind," Scott said.

"No. I don't mind," Murdoch said, running his big hand over Charlie's hair.

Murdoch, as was his custom, offered Charlie the reins as they began their drive out to the shack.

"Murdoch, do you know about investments?" Charlie asked.

"What sort of investments?"

"The sort that make even more money for a person."

"Well, not all investments do that, darling. Sometimes, an investment loses money for a person," he explained.

"How do you know if something is a good investment, or a bad one?" Charlie asked.

"Usually, it takes some research. Planning. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't."

"Oh." Charlie said, looking thoughtful.

"Why are you asking about that?" Murdoch asked her.

"Mr. Beets said something about it," Charlie said, and dropped the subject as the shack came into sight.

L

There was no sign of old Burl outside the shack. And no sign of the dogs, either. Murdoch got down and Charlie jumped

down after him, following as he walked towards the porch. The front door was closed up, and when Murdoch knocked, there

was no answer from inside.

"I don't believe he's at home," Murdoch said, stepping back, and looking around towards the side yard.

"He might be," Charlie said. "That time Johnny and I came over here, that's when he was sitting on the floor, with the

big knot on his head from Monte rocking him-" She went to the same window she'd peered into before.

This time, though, she didn't see Burl sitting inside. Still, the window was awfully dirty-

Charlie took the hem of her dress, using it to wipe at the dirty glass.

Murdoch had stepped down from the porch, and gone to look around the side of the shack.

Charlie went to wiggle the doorknob, finding it unlocked.

"Murdoch," she said, and when he looked at her, she nodded towards the door, preparing to open it.

"No," Murdoch said.

Charlie halted from turning the doorknob, but kept her hand there on it.

"He might be inside, though," she persisted.

"We are not going into the man's home," Murdoch said, firmly.

Charlie gave him a pleading glance.

"I'd say he's out hunting, or trapping," Murdoch said. "There's footprints here in the mud, leading up the hill there."

Charlie came over to where Murdoch was, to have a look at the footprints for herself.

"He knew we were coming to pick him up for dinner, though," Charlie said. She was so very disappointed that she

wanted to burst into tears, right there, right where she stood.

Murdoch gave her a sympathetic look. "Perhaps he decided that he'd rather not come."

"Well, that's just-stupid, that's all!" Charlie said, and stomped to the buggy. She climbed up and Murdoch followed,

getting into the buggy on the other side. He unwrapped the reins, and offered them to Charlie.

She shook her head in refusal. "No, thank you."

Murdoch said no more, at that particular moment. He merely urged Barnaby into a turn and began the trek back

down the road towards town.

After a few minutes of silence, Murdoch spoke. "It was his choice to make, darling."

"Well, I think it was-rude of him," Charlie said. "Teresa was nice enough to ask him, and plan all the special food, and

then he doesn't have the manners to-" Charlie let her voice trail off.

She was surprised when Murdoch, without fanfare, pulled the buggy to a stop, at the side of the road.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I know it was important to you. Perhaps he'll come another time."

Charlie shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe."

Murdoch rubbed her arm. "We'll have a good dinner, anyway."

"More for us, right?" Charlie said, in an attempt to rise above her disappointment.

"Right." Murdoch offered her the reins again, and this time Charlie took them from him.

"Can we-I mean, may we, go home faster than usual?" Charlie asked him, her eyes hopeful. Murdoch had been sparing about

letting her guide the buggy while Barnaby was at a run.

"As long as it's not so fast that we take flight," Murdoch said.

L


	48. The Plan

Home from church, the family ate lunch, and then spent some time outside, sitting and talking to Beets, before he was to leave

for the stage.

When Murdoch prepared to take Beets to town, Charlie left her swing to come and tell him goodbye. After that, Charlie followed

Johnny as he prepared to replace some shoes on one of the horses.

Charlie sat and watched him as he worked, sitting cross-legged on the ground.

"Do you know any magic tricks?" Charlie asked.

"Nope."

"None at all?" Charlie asked, disappointed.

"Maybe a couple of card tricks," Johnny amended. "Why do you wanna know about that?"

"I want to learn some," Charlie said. "Will you show me the card tricks?"

"I spose I can." Johnny straightened up, stretching his back. "If Scott doesn't care."

"He shouldn't," Charlie said, and then hesitated. "Should he?"

"It's not really lady-like, knowin' card tricks," Johnny said, his eyes laughing at her. He knew how Charlie felt about

being challenged to be more 'lady-like'.

"I don't see why girls can't learn the same things boys can," Charlie said, in protest.

"No young ones ought to be messin' around with cards," Johnny said. "Including boys."

"But, you'll show me, right?" Charlie persisted.

"Maybe later. We'll see," Johnny said.

That night after supper, Charlie went to retrieve a deck of cards from Murdoch's library, and brought them out to Johnny, where the family

was sitting.

"Will you show me the card tricks?" she asked.

"What do ya say, Scott?" Johnny asked, looking to his brother.

Scott held out a hand to indicate his permission. "Let's see what you know," he said.

Johnny did a couple of card tricks, and then he explained to Charlie how he'd done them, but when she tried, she couldn't seem to

get them right at all.

"How long before I'll be able to do it like you?" Charlie asked him, impatiently.

"It takes practice, pequeno."

"Don't you know any other tricks?" Charlie asked.

"Why are you so interested in card tricks?" Murdoch asked, from where he sat, watching.

"It doesn't have to be card tricks. Any tricks would be alright," Charlie said.

"I asked why you're so interested," Murdoch reminded her.

Faced with all three of the Lancer men, looking at her with interest, Charlie hesitated. She had no intention of telling any of them

why she wanted to know how to do a magic trick or two.

"I think it would be fun to know some," she said, in answer. There. That was the truth. Just not the whole truth.

"I think I might know somethin' you can do," Johnny said.

"What?" Charlie asked, eagerly.

"Go get a couple of apples," Johnny instructed, and Charlie ran to comply. When she returned, she watched as Johnny bit into one

of the apples, and then demonstrated the trick. It fooled Charlie, and had her wondering how he'd done what he had done.

Johnny explained it, and, amazed at the simplicity of the trick, Charlie was estatic.

"That's a good one!" she said. "Thanks, Johnny!"

That night, after she and Scott had done their nightly reading, Scott put in the book mark and closed the book.

This was their time to talk, and Charlie asked him about what Beets had mentioned. About how Scott might go to Stockton

to talk to the men who were in charge of the inheritance.

"Did Beets tell you about that?" Scott asked.

"Yes. He said you might have to go."

"I'm actually going sometime next week," Scott said.

"Oh." Charlie considered. "He said you might have to make decisions about investments and things like that."

"I don't think I'll have the final decision on anything," Scott corrected. "More just weighing in on my opinions."

"Could you suggest things, though?" Charlie asked.

"I'm not sure. I might be able to, at some point."

"I'd like to buy a house," Charlie said.

"A house?" Scott asked, quite obviously surprised.

Charlie nodded. "For Burl," she explained. "So he can have something better, and warmer than that shack."

"Ah. Well, that's a kind thought, kiddo. I don't think that it's an option, though."

"Why not?" Charlie asked.

"Buying a house for somebody isn't what Beets or the other men have in mind, I don't think."

"He talked about investments," Charlie reminded him. "And isn't a house sort of like an investment?"

For a long moment, Scott looked nonplussed. Then he gave her a half-smile, and shook his head. "You are something else,

you know that?" he said.

"Is that bad?" Charlie asked him.

"No. It's not bad. I meant that you have a kind heart, and empathy for other people. Like Burl. But, I don't think that

buying a house is something that's going to happen."

"Oh," Charlie said, a trifle disappointed.

"Get under the covers there," Scott told her, and Charlie obediently scrambled under the quilt. When she'd done that, Scott

pulled the quilt up around her, tucking it in at her sides.

"Why do you think Burl didn't want to come today, to eat with us?" Charlie asked.

"I'm not certain that he didn't want to come," Scott said.

"If he'd wanted to come, though, wouldn't he have?"

"He probably had some conflicting emotions about it all."

At Charlie's puzzled look, Scott continued. "He may have wanted to come in some ways, but then felt as though he shouldn't."

"You mean because he felt strange? Like as though he wouldn't fit in?" Charlie asked.

"Right."

"We would have been kind to him, though," Charlie protested. "We would have made feel really welcome here."

"We would have," Scott agreed. "I think, though, that he's been alone for some time, and he just prefers his own company

to that of others."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead in a frown. "He likes it when we come to visit, though. I can tell."

"That's in his own home, in his own environment. He's probably more comfortable that way."

Charlie considered that. "That makes me feel sad for him," she said.

"I know it does," Scott said.

"People around here haven't been nice to him at all. We're his only friends."

When Scott was quiet, Charlie went on.

"Can we go and visit him this week?" she asked.

"We'll talk about it, and try to pick an evening," Scott said.

"Okay."

Scott leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

L

At school the next day, Charlie told Rebecca about the trick using the apple that Johnny had showed her.

Rebecca agreed it was a good trick.

"Are you going to do it?" Rebecca asked.

"Only if he bothers me," Charlie said.

The day went by peacefully enough. Charlie did well on a arithmetic lesson, and enjoyed lunch outside with her friends in the

sunshine. There was talk of a birthday party that upcoming Saturday morning, for one of the other girls.

Going to gather Gurth after school, Charlie saw John lurking yet again, by the road near the stable. He had a long stick in his hand,

and he was running it along the picket fence.

Charlie led the saddled Gurth out of the stable, and John began to follow along behind her, albeit at a bit of a distance.

Charlie turned to look at John.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded bluntly, stopping there in the road to confront him.

John paused, as well. "I can walk where I want," he said, in his typical bravado style.

He was right. Charlie knew that. And, it wasn't as though John was actually doing anything to cause her harm.

Just vast irritation. Charlie gave herself that talking to, saying all those things to herself. Then, the bit of an ornery imp

rose up, stronger than the self-talking to.

She turned away, and walked a few steps, pulling out one of the apples from her bag. She took a bite so it would appear as though

she was chewing apple. Then she took the sliver she'd cut from the apple earlier, and tucked it into her palm. Turning again to John,

she said, "Are you brave enough to watch me do magic?"

John's eyes widened.

Seizing her opportunity, Charlie went on, showing the second apple, with the sliver attached to the skin. And then, without

waiting for John's permission, she turned the apple to show John.

"So?" John said. "It's an apple with a bite out of it-"

"I can heal the apple," Charlie interrupted. "That's the magic part."

"Whadaya mean, heal it?" John asked.

"I can make it as though the apple didn't have a bite out of it."

"Uh uh," John said.

Charlie lowered her tone to one of a shared secret. "I can," she stated. And, then, she proceeded to do just that.

When she was done, John looked properly startled. A bit wary. Frightened, even.

"I can make other things disappear, too," Charlie said, trying her utmost to sound ominous.

John got her meaning, and now he looked all out frightened.

"You're a witch," he accused.

Charlie laughed, tossing the 'healed' apple into the air, and then catching it. She made no attempt to deny the 'witch'

comment, and John said, again, sounding horrified, "You are. You're a real witch."

Still congratulating herself in her mind, Charlie smiled.

"I'm tellin' my pa," John said, and began to back up a few steps.

Uh oh.

"You don't need to tell your father-" Charlie began.

"I am. I'm gonna tell him that you're using magic on me-"

"I didn't do anything to you," Charlie protested.

"You said you can make me disappear!" John said.

Charlie saw all her plans going terribly, terribly wrong.

"I did not-" she began to defend herself.

"You did so!" And, with that, John turned, and ran.

L


	49. Like a friend

After John had made his speedy escape, disappearing around the corner of one of the buildings, Charlie mounted Gurth, and

began to ride towards home. Her stomach felt all funny. Clinched up with nerves. She tossed away the apple she still held, letting it

land in a patch of wildflowers beside the road.

Charlie muttered some choice words to herself. Why did everything have to be so complicated all the time?

All she'd been trying to do was set John straight. Give him a taste of his own medicine, so to speak. Show him that he needed not to

annoy and pester people. And that he shouldn't be mean and cruel, as he'd been to old Burl.

Instead, it looked as though her plan was going to backfire.

Well, maybe John's father would pay him no mind. Still, there was the off-chance that his stern seeming father would pay him mind. And, that

would present an even more pressing set of problems. To try to brush the thoughts from her mind, she urged Gurth into a full-on

gallop, and kept him to that until she reached the ranch.

Once at home, Charlie untacked Gurth, and then turned him out into the pasture. Gurth went immediately to get a drink from the

water trough. Charlie went to put away the saddle and bridle, struggling a bit under the weight of the saddle.

She'd come back out of the barn, and went inside, where she poured herself a glass of cold lemonade, but shook her head

in refusal of Marie's offered cookies.

She was still there, in the kitchen, drinking a second glass of lemonade, when she heard boot scuffling at the back door,

and then Johnny stood there.

Maria turned from her bread kneading to ask Johnny, " _Bebida fria'?"_

Johnny shook his head. "No. Gracias."

He turned an obviously put-out look onto Charlie. "You and me need to have words."

Charlie, sitting there on the tall kitchen stool, paused with her glass halfway to her mouth.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Put that down, and come with me," Johnny ordered, and turned on his heel to go back out the door.

Charlie looked at Maria, who raised her eyebrows. Charlie set the glass down slowly, and went outside.

Johnny had walked a bit away from the house, and then stopped. He had his hands on his hips, and those vivid blue eyes

were snapping.

"You run your horse all the way home?" he demanded, after Charlie had come nearer, and paused in front of him.

"Part of the way," Charlie said, wondering why Johnny would be mad about that.

"And then what?" Johnny snapped.

Charlie bit at her lip, still not certain why he was so angry.

"Then what, Charlie?" Johnny asked again, when she took too long to answer.

"Then I untacked him, and put the saddle away-" Charlie said.

"Come with me," Johnny said, again, and turned to stalk towards the corral.

Gurth was still standing near the corral gates, though not near the water trough. Charlie saw that he was now tied to a spot

further from the trough. At the corral fence, Johnny squeezed thru the openings, and then, without gentleness, plucked Charlie

from where she stood, and lifted her over.

Near Gurth now, Johnny nodded towards him. "Look at your horse."

Charlie looked, and knew then, for certainty, just what it was that had Johnny fired up. Gurth was lathered with sweat, and was

breathing hard, his nostrils flaring.

"I didn't cool him down," Charlie said.

"No. You didn't. And, then you put him where he could drink," Johnny said, his tone severe.

Charlie looked at him, confused.

"A horse can get mightily sick, if they eat or drink before they've been cooled down proper," Johnny went on.

"I didn't know that-" Charlie began.

"You didn't know that part. Alright. But, you did know to always, always cool a horse down after you work

them they way you did yours. I've told you that more than once before. Right?" Johnny said.

Charlie found she could only nod in response. Speaking seemed too difficult at that moment. Johnny looked so

ferocious. She'd never seen him like this. Not even when he'd caught her out in Stockton, running with the kids who were

busting the store windows. Not even when he thought she'd been less than honest with him a time or two.

"Then you do what you should have done. You walk that horse until he's cooled proper. I'll come back in a bit and make

sure he's breathing alright. You don't give him any food or water until I check him again." He gave Charlie the full-on benefit

of those flashing eyes. It was such that Charlie wished she could run for the house to avoid it.

"When I come back out here, we're goin' to have some more discussion, you and I," Johnny said. "Understood?"

Charlie nodded again. Johnny turned and walked away. Charlie wasn't even certain which direction he headed, because her eyes

were so full of tears. She cried the whole time she was walking Gurth around and across the pasture fields. When she

finished crying, and was only sniffling, she began talking to Gurth, telling him how sorry that she was, and begging him not

to get sick from drinking all the water that he likely had.

She heard a whistle from the corral area in the distance, and looked. Seeing Johnny standing there, and then he beckoned to

her with his hand.

Charlie walked that way, leading Gurth. Approaching Johnny, Charlie took inventory of his face, trying to decipher his expression, and his

demeanor. To see if he was still furious with her. She found that it was hard to tell, really. He didn't look his usual self, that was

for certain. He was still stone-faced, though he looked a bit calmer.

Johnny stepped forward as Charlie brought Gurth to a halt. He ran his hands over Gurth, and went to stand in front of the horse.

"Comere," he said, and Charlie obeyed, coming up beside him.

"See how his nostrils aren't flaring now?" he asked her. Without waiting for an answer, he took her hand and placed it on

Gurth's chest. "Before you walked him, his chest was warm. It's better now," he said, in explanation, his hand still on top of hers,

holding it there.

"Is he gonna be alright now?" Charlie asked, feeling timid. And concerned for her horse, and what she might have done to him.

Johnny released her hand, and turned to look down at Charlie. "He'll be alright," he said.

Relieved she was, yet she was not. Johnny's eyes were still snapping.

"What you did, that's no way to treat a horse," he said. His voice was quiet enough, but Charlie knew him well enough by now

to know that that didn't mean he wasn't angry. "You tend to your horse, always, before you take care of yourself."

"I'm sorry-" Charlie began.

"I don't want to hear that you're sorry," Johnny interrupted her. "What I do want you to do is answer a question. Would you treat

a friend that way? Have them run in the heat, and then just leave them without makin' sure they're alright?"

Charlie shook her head. "No-"

"Doesn't your horse deserve the same consideration you'd give a friend?"

"Yes-"

Johnny paused, giving Charlie another severe look. "Take him and let him drink now," he said.

Charlie obeyed, leading Gurth to the water trough. As the horse began to drink, Johnny, who'd been following,

said, "Havin' a horse isn't a right, Charlie. It's a privilege. If somebody can't take care of their horse as they should, then

they ought not to have it."

Charlie stared at Johnny in utter, absolute horror. His anger she understood. She'd done wrong, when he'd taught her

better. But, this! To take Gurth from her!

She began to cry in earnest again, not even embarrassed by her tears. "No, Johnny, please! You can-" Charlie searched for

something wild-something that would change his mind. She'd heard one of the boys at school talking that day about what

he'd received from his grandmother on the weekend. "You can cut a switch!"

Johnny raised his eyebrows a bit, looking shocked. "Cut a switch?"

"Yes!" Charlie remembered what else it was that Luke, (the boy at school), had said. "A boy at school said his granny made

him go get the switch himself, but I don't think I'd know which one to get-so maybe you should do that part."

"You don't want me to cut a switch, Charlie," Johnny told her, still looking slightly off-kilter at her suggestion. "I promise you that you

do not want me to do that."

"No, I don't! But I even more don't want you to sell Gurth off, away from Lancer! Away from me!" Charlie said, sobbing.

Johnny shook his head a bit, as if to clear it. "Good Lord, Charlie. I never said a thing about sellin' off your horse."

Charlie tried to slow down her tears, looking up at him in question. "You said a person shouldn't have a horse-if they

can't take care of them the right way-"

"I said that, yeah. But I didn't mean that I would take your horse away from ya. I'm just tryin' to make a point, and have

you understand this is serious," Johnny said.

"I can keep Gurth?" Charlie asked, hiccupping a bit.

"Are you gonna tend to him the way that you should?" Johnny countered.

"Yes! I promise! I'll never put him up without cooling him-"

"Alright."

Still breathing hard from crying, Charlie looked up at him, as he looked down at her.

It seemed to Charlie that they were both talking, though neither one of them spoke for a long few moments.

Johnny reached out to take the halter off of Gurth, and gave him a light pat on his hindquarters. He handed the halter

to Charlie, and then ran his thumb down her wet cheek.

"You'd better go inside and wash your face," he told Charlie. "And make sure Maria knows I didn't hurt ya."

L

Charlie went to do as Johnny had said, washing her face in the kitchen, and finishing the left-behind glass of lemonade.

After that, she went to change to her play clothes, and then went to do her chores. She still felt subdued. Worn out. She'd finished

gathering the eggs, and was latching the door to the chicken yard, when she saw Johnny and Scott in conversation near the barn.

Charlie sighed. Sure as shootin', Johnny was telling Scott about what had happened.

Suddenly, thinking of everything with Johnny, and now Scott knowing of it, and then concern about John telling his father

she'd threatened him with 'magic', Charlie felt overwhelmed. Fed up. There was just too many adults around here to

answer to.

She felt instantly guilty for thinking of it that way. This was her family now. She was lucky to have them. All of them.

Still, there was a parcel of them to answer to, and sometimes it was just too much.

She went to take the eggs inside to Maria, and told Maria she didn't feel like supper. Maria looked her over and pronounced

her fine. _"Estas bien."_

Charlie held her tongue, but felt that frustration rise up.

Murdoch, Scott and Johnny came in at that time, and began to wash up at the sink. Scott greeted Charlie as he

always did, calling her 'kiddo' and asking how her day at school had gone.

Charlie answered him, with somewhat of a more reticent manner than was usual.

Scott caused her to pause, with a hand on her arm, and then asked, "You alright?"

"I don't feel like eating supper," Charlie told him, in a low tone, knowing Maria was listening. "But Maria says I'm fine."

Scott exchanged a glance with Maria, and then looked back at Charlie, first laying a hand on her forehead, and then cupping

her chin in his hand.

"You don't feel warm," he said.

"Maybe not, but I still don't feel eating," Charlie said, quietly.

Johnny passed by in front of she and Scott, and Charlie caught the look he gave her. She knew what he thought.

"And it's not because Johnny got on to me, either," Charlie said, in protest. "I know that's what you all think, but it's not

that!"

Scott gave her a long glance, still cupping her chin in his hand.

"I think you should try to eat something," Scott said.

Charlie wanted to stamp her feet. Wasn't anybody at all listening to her?

Fuming, she looked up at Scott. Something she really had no choice but to do, considering the way he was holding

her chin.

Scott correctly read that frustration and fuming in her eyes and expression. All he said was, "Charlie?"

But Charlie knew what he really meant was, 'No tantrum; no arguing; eat your supper; we'll talk more later'.

Charlie nodded in response, and Scott surveyed her for a moment longer, and then released her chin.

"Something sure smells good," Scott said, smiling at Maria.

L

Charlie kept still thru supper, letting the conversations roll on around her. She ate the food on her plate, and then

spoke up quietly, "May I be excused?"

"There's blackberry pie," Teresa said.

"No, thank you," Charlie said, and looked at Scott.

"You can go," Scott said.

Charlie stood up, pushing in her chair neatly, and then went to the library to collect her school things. Then she went upstairs,

to her bedroom. She practiced her spelling words, writing them on her slate, and then worked thru her arithmetic problems. After

that, she sat in the window seat, drawing in the sketch book that Murdoch had given her.

There was a light tap on her door, and Charlie sighed. Likely Scott had come up, to talk to her about what

had happened with Johnny, and her horse. Charlie stayed slumped where she was.

"Come in," she said.

When the door opened, it was Johnny, not Scott, who stepped into the room, though. He'd loosened his shirt, letting it hang loose

from his waist.

"Hey," he said, in greeting.

Charlie hugged her sketch book to her chest, looking at him. Expecting Scott as she had been, she was more than a

bit surprised to see Johnny.

"Hi."

Johnny turned, and closed the door behind him. Then, facing Charlie again, he walked over, and sat, not beside her,

but on the edge of her bed.

"Everybody's missin' ya, downstairs," Johnny began by saying.

Charlie kept her eyes on him, but was silent.

"We've gotten used to ya bein' around, of an evening," Johnny said. "It's not the same without ya."

What he was saying got thru to Charlie. She knew that Johnny was likely feeling that he'd been too severe with her earlier. Johnny really

was a soft touch. Most of the time, anyway.

Charlie took a deep breath. "That's nice," she said.

"I don't think ya need to stay up here, sulkin', do ya?"

"I'm not sulking," Charlie said.

"No?" Johnny asked, looking doubtful.

Charlie shook her head. And then, in honesty, she said, "Well. At least I don't think so."

After a couple of moments, Charlie said, "I feel sorry for what I did to Gurth."

"I know ya do."

At that statement from Johnny, affirming his belief in her regret, Charlie went on. "He's my friend. And, I didn't treat him like

I would a friend."

"You won't do it again, so it was a good lesson," Johnny said.

"Yes," Charlie said, in agreement.

There were a few moments of silence then, but it wasn't a bad silence, Charlie didn't think. Johnny wasn't smiling, but his eyes

were. He looked like, well, like the 'Johnny' that she knew again.

Charlie laid the sketch pad to the side, and stood up. She went over slowly and stood beside the bed.

She wasn't sure what it was she wanted to say, exactly. She was saved from having to search for the correct words, when Johnny

reached out, and gave her wrist a tug, pulling her down onto his knee. He hugged her so tight that Charlie felt breathless. But, she

didn't mind. Not at all.

L


	50. Chatting

John was absent from school the next day. And, the next. When other kids asked Monte where John was, Monte replied that

John was sick. Or thought that he was sick.

Since he'd gotten taken to task by his father for hurling rocks, Monte had been less abrasive. At least it seemed that

way to Charlie. He even, on occasion, asked Charlie to join in on a game at recess, or things such as that.

Therefore, Charlie wasn't totally shocked when Monte approached her one day at lunch, while Charlie sat with Rebecca.

"You sure have John scared about somethin'," Monte told Charlie.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked, though she feared she knew the answer already.

"He says he can't come to school or somethin' bad will happen to him."

"And he's says that's because of me?" Charlie asked, dreading the answer.

"He didn't say that, exactly."

"What did he say, exactly?"

"He said he's scared you'll make him disappear."

Charlie lost what appetite that she'd still had. She stuffed what was left of Maria's tortillas back into her lunch pail.

This was it, she thought. She might as well face it.

"How does he think I would do that?" Charlie asked, fishing for just what answers John had given.

"I dunno. He doesn't say that part."

"What did your father say?" Charlie asked.

"Pa's not to home. He's been gone to buy cattle. John just complains to my Ma."

"Oh." Charlie thought about that for a long moment. "Well, what does your mother say?"

"She doesn't say much," Monte said, and then gave Charlie a questioning look. "How'd you get John to believe that, anyways?"

Even though Monte had been a lot nicer of late, Charlie wasn't tempted to tell him the truth of the matter.

She shrugged, pretending no knowledge.

"Pa will make him come to school, that's for certain," Monte said.

When Monte had gone on his way, to join some of the other boys in a game, Rebecca asked Charlie if she was worried

about John's father.

Because Rebecca was a real, true friend, Charlie answered honestly, "Yes."

"Maybe if you told Scott about it first, that would be the best thing," Rebecca suggested. "My Pa always tell us kids that if

we tell him the truth, it'll go better for us."

Remembering that Scott had alluded to something similar, commending Charlie for coming to him on her own about something, she

knew that Rebecca spoke the truth. Still...

That evening she did her chores, and then helped Maria to prepare supper. She found that she enjoyed learning to work the stove, and

to prepare different foods. Maria was a patient teacher, and participating in the meal preparation helped Charlie to forget about John

for a bit.

That was, until Teresa arrived home. She'd been in town, Maria had said. Charlie had assumed that Teresa had gone

shopping, or to visit a friend in town.

And, indeed, Teresa was carrying packages when she came into the kitchen. She and Maria conversed for a few minutes,

and then Teresa paused beside where Charlie sat, her arms still full of several packages.

"I got you some more Levis," Teresa said.

"Oh, thank you," Charlie said.

"You're welcome. Scott gave me the money. I also got you some new stockings. Your others are getting really worn."

Instead of heading upstairs with her purchases, Teresa stood there still, and Charlie thought she had a strange expression on her

face.

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked her.

"I heard something odd today, while I was at the sewing group with some of the other ladies."

"What?"

"It's silly, really. Something about that little Johnson boy thinking you've cast a spell onto him, or something."

Charlie tried to school her expression into one of non-reaction.

"Who said that?" she asked.

"His mother. She said John hasn't been to school this week because he's got the notion that you have some sort of

power." Teresa shook her head.

"What did you say?" Charlie asked, hoping that the other ladies at the sewing group hadn't been rude to Teresa about

this whole matter.

"I told her that I couldn't imagine what would make John think such a thing," Teresa said. "She's a typical mother, though. Thinks

that her child can do no wrong. So, she just kept maintaining that John truly believes it."

"Oh," Charlie said.

"It was ridiculous, really," Teresa went on. "I finally told her that it has to be some sort of misunderstanding. I told her that there

was no way that you would have deliberately given John that idea."

Charlie was silent, trying to calm her thoughts. She felt badly. Here Teresa was, defending her in a room full of

women that way.

"Thank you, for defending me," Charlie said.

Teresa gave Charlie a nudge with her elbow. "Don't look so concerned. I set Mrs. Johnson straight."

And, with that, Teresa left the kitchen, leaving Charlie with an observant Maria.

Charlie flicked a glance towards Maria, to find the older woman eying her. Charlie would have responded with a

sassy 'what?', but knew better.

" _Ese chico esta preocupado."_

Chico was 'boy'. Charlie wasn't sure about the rest of it.

"Worried," Maria amended.

Ah. The boy was worried.

Charlie lifted her shoulders in a light shrug, trying to meet Maria's eyes.

Grateful that Maria said no more then, but went on with her instructions on preparing the food, Charlie tried to keep

her mind on the cooking lesson.

She was still there, perched on the high stool, rolling out a pie crust, when Johnny and Scott came in from outside,

going to the sink to wash up.

"Hey there, pequeno," Johnny said, giving Charlie a smacking kiss on the top of her head.

"How was school?" Scott asked her.

"Alright," Charlie said.

"Spelling test go well?" Scott asked her, then, picking up a piece of carrot from the table, and munching on it.

"I only missed one," Charlie told him.

"Good work," Scott said, giving her shoulder a pat.

"How long until supper?" Johnny asked, going to wrap an arm around Maria's waist. _"Me muero de hombre."_

 _"Pronto."_

"Murdoch's not going to be home in time to eat," Scott told Maria.

Maria replied in Spanish, something that Charlie was fairly certain was about keeping Murdoch's plate warming.

It was while Charlie was setting the table, that Teresa came to help, carrying in a pitcher of lemonade, to set in the

center of the table. "Here," she said, reaching out to take some of the silverware from Charlie. "I'll help do that."

Charlie studied Teresa, trying not to seem obvious about it. Teresa had changed her clothes, replacing her dress

with her pants and casual blouse, and had brushed out her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders.

"Do we have to talk about John's mother? And what she said?" Charlie ventured to ask, trying to sound casual.

"I told you about it, that's all," Teresa said, misunderstanding.

"I know. I meant-do we have to talk about it _more?"_

Teresa paused in her laying of the silverware, to look at Charlie. "Why? I told you I did my best to straighten her out on

things. Hopefully, it will all blow over."

"Yeah. Hopefully. But, I just meant-do we have to talk about it to Scott?"

Teresa wrinkled her forehead in question. "What difference does it make if Scott knows?"

Charlie very carefully began to continue with her plate setting, not looking at Teresa. "He might ask about it. Ask if I know why

John would think it, and all of that."

"Charlie," Teresa said, and then again, "Charlie."

Charlie looked up at the older girl.

"Do you know why John thinks it?" Teresa asked, plainly intent on an answer.

"He might have gotten the idea from me," Charlie said reluctantly, and Teresa's eyebrows lifted.

"What?" she demanded.

There were male voices coming towards the dining room. They were about to be joined by Scott and Johnny, and Charlie

gave Teresa a pleading look. "I'll explain to you. But, later, okay?"

Closer they came. Nearly to the dining room door.

"Please, Teresa?" Charlie pleaded.

"I can't believe-" Teresa began to say, sounding exasperated. She paused in her talking as the Lancer men entered

the room.

"What can't you believe?" Johnny asked Teresa.

Charlie waited, watching Teresa's face. What would Teresa say?

"I can't believe you didn't bring in some of the food," Teresa said, and Charlie felt a swoosh of relief.

L

The conversation around the table included the topics of where Murdoch was at, and the promise that Scott would take

more food out to Burl in two days time.

Pleased with that news, Charlie joined in to the others, as everybody pitched in to clear the table of the dishes.

"How was your day?" Scott asked Teresa as they all made their way to the kitchen. "You had your get-together today

in town, didn't you?"

Charlie was walking along behind Scott and she looked at Teresa, again wondering.

"Yes, that was today," Teresa said, in answer.

"And how are all the upstandin' ladies of town?" Johnny asked, in a teasing way.

"Some of them are more upstanding than others," Teresa said, and Johnny laughed.

Marie shooed them all out of the kitchen, reminding Charlie that her pie would be done soon, and to keep an eye

on it so that it didn't burn.

The rest of the evening passed without further incident, and when eight o'clock came, and Charlie was sent upstairs to

prepare for bed, Teresa gave her a pointed look.

Thus, Charlie was not surprised when she was just pulling her nightgown over her head, and there was a tap on the door.

The door opened before Charlie could say 'come in', and Teresa entered and then closed the door behind her.

She had the look of someone who was intent on getting an answer. She sat down on the edge of Charlie's bed.

"Alright, missy, tell me what's going on with you and John," she said.

Charlie eyed Teresa, trying to gauge the extent of her irritation. She took her time in answering, buttoning up

her nightgown, and loosening her hair from the braid that contained it.

"Stop stalling," Teresa said.

Charlie went over to sit next to Teresa on the bed. "Promise you won't say anything?"

"No. I'm not going to promise that," Teresa refused.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what exactly has happened. So, I don't know if it's something I should keep to myself or not."

"It's just a misunderstanding, that's all," Charlie defended.

"Explain it to me, then."

Charlie sighed. "John wouldn't leave me be, and the teacher wouldn't do anything about it."

"And?" Teresa prompted.

"And-John got the idea that I might have powers, or something like that."

"And, he got this idea from you?"

"I only wanted to make him stop being such a nuisance."

"What is it that you did, exactly?" Teresa asked.

"I did that apple trick that Johnny showed me, and I told him I could do magic. And, that I could probably make

other things disappear."

"Oh, my goodness, Charlie," Teresa said, with a look heavenward.

"It was only meant to make him-"

"I know. I know," Teresa said, holding up a hand to forestall Charlie's words.

Teresa was quiet then, surveying Charlie with a serious expression. "The way that his mother talks, he's really

frightened, though."

"He's pigeon-livered," Charlie said.

"That's not very nice."

"Calling him pigeon-livered? That's what he is."

"Calling him that, and also telling him you're going to make him disappear. That's not right, Charlie."

"I didn't tell him I would make him disappear. I just told him I could make other things disappear. He jumped to the conclusion-"

"He jumped to the exact conclusion that you wanted him to jump to," Teresa said. She sounded really exasperated and

Charlie again tried to gauge her reaction.

"And, I stood up for you," Teresa said. "I told her that you wouldn't have let John think that."

"I'm sorry about that part of it," Charlie said, meaning it.

"So am I," Teresa said, and Charlie felt her stomach knot. Hearing Teresa say that, about being sorry that she'd defended her, well,

that was worse than facing the music on this whole thing.

"Don't say that, Teresa. I don't want you to be sorry that you stood up for me. Until I came here, with all of you, I never had

anybody defend me before," Charlie said.

Teresa sighed, and her expression softened. "I didn't mean that I was sorry I defended you. I just meant that I'm sorry-about

all of it."

"Me, too. I didn't know John was going to take on so about it."

"You wanted him to believe it, didn't you? Well, now he does. I don't know what else you could really expect."

"I didn't think he'd take me so seriously-" Charlie began.

A tap at the door, and both of them stopped talking. "Come in," Teresa said.

Scott opened the door. He had the current nightly reading book in one hand.

"Everything alright up here?" he asked.

"We're chatting," Teresa said.

"Am I interrupting, then?" Scott asked, smiling.

"No. We're finished talking for tonight." Teresa stood up, and gave Charlie a measured look. "We'll talk some

more tomorrow, alright?"

There was no mistaking her meaning, and Charlie nodded. "Night, Teresa."

"Goodnight."

Passing by Scott, Teresa patted his arm. "Goodnight, Scott."

"Goodnight."

L


	51. Highs and Lows

Scott waited until Charlie got home from school the next day, to take the weekly food to Burl's shack. He had his horse saddled, loaded

with bags packed with food.

"Want to ride along with me?" he asked her, as she came up on Gurth.

"Yes," Charlie said, eagerly. "You have it all?"

Scott patted the bulging saddle bags. "Right here."

"What all did you pack?" Charlie asked.

"Some bread, some salt pork, a few potatoes, and a pie," Scott said.

"All of that in there?" Charlie asked, amazed.

"It's a tight squeeze, but it's all in there," Scott said. "Are you going to change your clothes before we go?"

"Yes," Charlie said, slipping down off of Gurth. "I'll hurry!"

When she'd changed, leaving her school clothes in a heap on her bedroom floor, Charlie flew back down the stairs, and

past Maria.

"Hola!" she called out.

Maria responded with the same greeting, and Charlie went outside, still on a run, to arrive breathless, and take Gurth's reins

from Scott. Scott, who'd been talking to Cip, looked amused at her dramatically hurried arrival.

"That was fast, huh?" she asked Scott, looking up into his tanned face.

"Faster than lightening," Scott said.

They set out, and Charlie found herself enjoying the ride immensely. It was nice, riding with Scott on such a nice day. It was warm, but not too

warm, with just the right amount of breeze. If she hadn't had the whole debacle with John to fret about, then Charlie thought she would

be absolutely happy and satisfied with life right now.

"It's nice today," Charlie said.

"Beautiful weather," Scott said in agreement.

"I like it when it's just you and me, sometimes," Charlie confided.

Scott turned to look at her, their horses side by side. "I like that, too," he said.

Charlie smiled at him.

"Anything you want to talk with me about?" Scott asked.

Charlie's heart leapt, thinking he was referring to John, and somehow knew about the whole 'magic' debacle.

"What do you mean?" she responded swiftly, and knew that it was the wrong way to reply when Scott looked puzzled.

"I didn't mean anything in particular," he said, mildly.

"Oh," Charlie said, and felt her face get warm.

"I meant with being here on the ranch, with me. And the rest of the family. If there's anything you want to discuss about it."

"Oh," Charlie said, again. She bit at her lower lip. "I love being here, with you. With everybody."

"Things seem to feel as though they're fitting together for you?" he asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yes."

"That's good," Scott said, sounding glad.

"Are things fitting together for you, too?" Charlie asked, feeling a bit anxious.

Scott smiled at her, and said, sounding reassuring, "They are."

After a couple of moments, Charlie said, "You don't go out much. With ladies, or even with Johnny. Is that because of me?"

"I might begin to go out more, at some point," Scott said, aware that Charlie was watching him with a bit of that anxiety. "But, I

haven't minded, being close at home."

"So, you don't feel as though you _have_ to stay home with me?"

"No. I don't feel that way, Charlie."

"That's good," Charlie said, feeling relieved.

"Trying to get rid of me of an evening, huh?" Scott asked her, teasing.

Charlie met his teasing glance, and shook her head. "Noooo."

"I will be going to Stockton soon. Day after tomorrow."

"To meet with Mr. Beets, and the others?" she asked.

Scott nodded. "That's right."

"Will you be back that night?"

"No. Not until the next day."

"Oh." Charlie thought about that, feeling a little let-down, and not sure just why.

"Could I go with you?" Charlie asked then, impulsively.

"You have school," he reminded her.

"I could miss one day."

Scott regarded her seriously. "You don't need to be in any of those meetings, Charlie. When you're older, maybe. But, not now."

"That's alright. I don't want to be at the meeting. I just meant, I'd like to go with you. I could stay at the hotel while you're

talking to the board. Or I could sit in the bank lobby, and read until you were finished."

"That doesn't sound as though it'd be much fun for you," Scott said.

"It would be fun, to go with you," Charlie insisted. "Please, Scott?"

"I tell you what," he said. "I'll give it some thought. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, knowing that the best answer she was going to get right then. "Alright."

When they reached the road turning towards the shack, the sun had made a disappearance, and the sky was darkening.

"Is it going to rain?" Charlie asked.

"Looks like it might."

At the front of the cabin, the dogs set up a ruckus. Barking. Barking. Barking.

"He's not going to be the leprechaun," Charlie said, speaking of which of the two demeanors old Burl would be displaying.

Scott got off his horse, beginning to open the saddle bags. "Why do you say that?"

"Because the dogs are barking," Charlie said, as if that made total sense. "They don't bark if he's talking like a leprechaun, and being

friendly."

Scott began to pull things out, and Charlie went over, taking the pie and the bread from him.

The door to the shack opened. And, there was Burl, looking as unkempt as usual, and wiping his hands on a rag that

looked filthy to Charlie.

"Come again, have ya?" Burl said.

"We brought you some more food," Charlie said, as she and Scott stepped up onto the porch.

"Well, you might as well come in, since you're here," Burl said gruffly, and turned to go back inside.

As they prepared to follow him, Charlie looked up at Scott. "See? Not the leprechaun," she whispered.

Scott gave a slight shake of his head to warn her to be still.

They went inside, where the room seemed dark, what with the way the day was darkening outside.

Scott set the meat and potatoes on the heavily covered table, and Charlie did the same with the pie and bread.

"It's pie," she volunteered.

"What sort of pie?"

Charlie looked to Scott. She wasn't certain, since Maria had covered the pie carefully.

"Apple," Scott told Burl.

"I enjoy a good apple pie," Burl said.

He went and began to tinker about the stove, filling cups with coffee and bringing them over to the table.

"Take a load off," he said, and gestured to the spare chair as he sat himself in the other. "Have a sit-down."

Scott sat in the offered chair, and Burl waved at a wooden stool off to the side. "You kin set on that, if you've a mind to," he told Charlie.

Charlie went to get the stool, and placed it beside Scott. She sat down cautiously. It seemed to her that the stool had seen

better days. It felt rickety, as though it wouldn't hold her weight.

Scott was working his way thru the cup of steaming coffee, and then, with an ease that Charlie much admired, Scott

drew Burl into a conversation. A conversation about the rifle that leaned nearby.

"That's a trap-door Springfield there, isn't it?" Scott asked, gesturing towards the rifle.

"That it is," Burl said, looking a bit surprised. "You know it?'

"I've never had the pleasure of owning one, but I've heard a good bit about them," Scott said.

"Well, here," Burl said, reaching for the rifle, and handing it to Scott. "Take a closer look at 'er."

Scott took the rifle, holding it and looking it over. The two of them continued talking about the gun, and Charlie didn't understand

much of what they were discussing. She did know, though, that Burl was pleased as punch that Scott had recognized the rifle. It was, from

what Charlie overheard, somewhat of a rarity amongst guns.

The rain began to pelt down outside. Charlie began to fret about the horses.

"Will they be alright?" she asked.

Before Scott could answer, old Burl said, "You can store 'em in my shed out back."

Charlie hadn't known there was any outbuildings nearby. "I'll do it," she said, preparing to stand up.

"No. I don't want you to get soaked if you don't have to," Scott said. He got up, and Burl stood up as well.

"I'll show ya," Burl said, and pulled on a jacket hanging on the wall.

"Here," he said, taking down another, and offering it to Scott. "No sense in you gettin' soaked, neither."

Scott took the offered coat. "Thank you," he said, and pulled it on.

Charlie, still sitting on her wobbly stool, nearly giggled aloud, at the sight of Scott in the borrowed coat. It was, by far, too

small. Charlie reckoned at least two sizes too small. His arms exceeded well past the length of the sleeves, his forearms sticking out.

And his shoulders seemed too broad in the coat.

They went out into the rain together, but before he left, Burl ushered all three of the dogs inside the shack. Left alone with

the dogs, Charlie sat still, wondering if the dogs would take offense at her being there. Burl must not have thought so, or Scott, either, or

she wouldn't have been left alone with the dogs.

Two of the dogs went to lay in front of the stove. Only one came over to Charlie, sniffing in greeting.

Charlie reached out to rub the dog's ears. She was still doing that, when Scott and Burl came back into the shack.

They were taking off the jackets, and rehanging them.

"We'll need more coffee," Burl said, sounding positively jubilant. For Burl, that was. He passed by Charlie, saying,

"Lola likes ya. She don't usually take to folks."

"I like her, too," Charlie said, as Scott came to reclaim the chair he'd been sitting in earlier. He ran a hand thru his wet hair.

"She'll be havin' those pups of hers anytime now," Burl continued.

"She's going to have puppies?" Charlie asked, with excitement.

"She surely is."

"What will you do with _more_ dogs?" Charlie asked, thinking that the shack was full enough, with the three big dogs already there.

"Charlie," Scott said, and Charlie knew that he thought she'd sounded rude in her questioning.

"The girl's right enough 'bout that," Burl said. "It gets mighty crowded in here, with all of 'em, and me, too. I reckon that we'll

just have to squeeze the pups in somehow." He brought the coffee pot to the table, and refilled Scott's cup with the brew. "Might be

that you could take one of 'em, if you've a mind to, missy."

Charlie sat up very straight, still rubbing Lola's ear. A puppy! Of her own! She'd never had such an opportunity.

Turning to Scott, she said, "Could I, Scott? Please?"

"We'll see," Scott said.

Now was not the time to wheedle. Charlie contented herself with going to sit on the floor with the dogs, envisioning herself

holding a fluffy, wriggly puppy.

L

The rain showed no signs of relenting. Charlie and Scott ended up having supper with Burl. The cluttered, scarred table was

cleared, and set with plates that all had at least one chip in them. Burl served a stew that was surprisingly good. He set the

kettle in the center of the table, and spooned generous portions onto the cracked plates. Accompanied by the bread that

Maria had baked, it was a satisfying meal.

There was no milk, so Charlie drank water. From a cup that didn't appear to be very clean. But, she didn't let it bother her.

"I don't think I've ever tasted a better stew," Scott said, in compliment.

Again, it was obvious that Burl was pleased. "Squirrel makes a right tasty stew," he said.

Charlie couldn't remember ever having eaten squirrel before. She was glad that she hadn't found out until after she'd eaten it.

Finally, the rain seemed to admit defeat. There was still a mist in the air, but it wasn't too bad, and Scott said they should

take advantage of the lull and set out for Lancer.

As they rode away, Charlie looked back to see Burl standing on the porch in the dusky light.

"I think he's sorry that we're leaving," Charlie said.

"Could be."

"I'm glad I didn't know it was squirrel," Charlie said. "I don't know if I could have eaten it if I had."

"Well, now you know you like it," Scott said.

After a few minutes of quiet, Charlie said, "You looked sort of funny in that coat."

"It was a bit small, wasn't it?"

Charlie giggled. "Your arms were hardly covered at all."

"It kept some of the rain off. I was glad to have it."

It was quiet for a bit longer. Charlie thought they were nearly to the ranch.

Something was niggling at Charlie from the inside. Telling her to confess to Scott about John, and all that had

happened. It had been a wonderful afternoon and evening. Interesting, and somewhat out of the ordinary. She felt admiration

for Scott, and how he treated the old man, odd though he was. Scott had shown respect, consideration, appreciation, all of those

things, to Burl. She wished with all her being that there was nothing standing between her and the good feelings she

wanted to hold onto about going to Burl's with Scott.

Ah, but there was. And even if Teresa said nothing, it was bound to come out. What Charlie had done.

She had just about made up her mind to speak of it, when Scott spoke first.

"Do you have homework?" he asked.

"A little. Some arithmetic."

"When we get home, you can begin on that, while we get some water heated. I want you to take a bath, and get

warmed up, from being out in this weather."

"Okay," Charlie said. Riding side by side, Charlie swung her glance to her left.

"Have you ever played a prank on somebody?" she asked.

"No. I don't think I have."

"Not even when you were a kid?" Charlie asked, aghast.

"I wasn't all that mischievous, really. I was fairly intent on my studies. My grandfather would have frowned on any misbehavior,

anyway. I didn't like to face his wrath, so that kept me out of trouble, for the most part. "

"Oh," Charlie said, feeling deflated. It would have been easier to confess to Scott if he'd had a story or two of wrongdoing of his

own youth.

"It sounds like you were-" Charlie hesitated. "Perfect."

Scott chuckled. "I was far from that."

"You were sure real good, though," Charlie said.

Hearing something in her voice, attuned to her mood, Scott turned to meet her gaze.

"What's wrong, Charlie?" he asked.

Charlie met his eyes, resigned to her fate of confession. She sighed.

"I played sort of a trick on John," she said.

Scott studied her for a long moment, and then said, "I'm listening."

"I did that apple trick of Johnny's, and then I told him how many spelling words he missed on his paper, and now he thinks

that I can do magic," Charlie said.

"How did you know how about the spelling?" Scott asked.

"The papers blew off of Miss Susan's desk, and I was helping to pick them up. So I saw."

Scott looked thoughtful. "Well, that doesn't sound too terrible," he said, misunderstanding. "You shouldn't have repeated what you

saw when you picked up the papers, of course. But, you can explain it to him."

Charlie wished it was all as simple as that. If only it was. She was hesitating over how to continue when Scott, again

perceptively, said, "Is there more to it?"

Charlie nodded, regretful.

"Let's have the rest, then," Scott said.

"He thinks I can make things disappear, or reappear, like the piece of the apple. He wouldn't stop what he was doing, so I let

him think it."

Scott pulled his horse to a halt, and so Charlie did, too. Scott's look was intent, and Charlie felt like

squirming in the saddle. It was plain, quite so, that he expected her to expand on her explanation.

"He thinks I can make _him_ disappear," Charlie admitted.

"You told him that?" Scott asked, sounding stern.

"No. Not exactly. I just told him that I could probably make _other_ things disappear. He came to his own ideas." The defense sounded

weak to her own ears. Charlie knew that Scott would not be impressed by it. And, he was not.

"Split hairs, Charlie."

"What's that?" she asked.

"It means that you're trying to make distinctions when it's unnecessary," he said. "You knew what he would think when you said

that. That was the intent, correct?"

Charlie sighed. There was no point to denying it. "Yes."

"Well, that's not the right thing, Charlie. You know that it's not. So, tomorrow at school, you can explain things to him. How you did the

apple trick, and how you knew about his spelling. And then, you can apologize for the conclusion that you caused him to reach."

"I will, if I can," Charlie said.

"What does that mean?" Scott asked, sounding impatient.

"He hasn't been at school."

"Well, probably he'll be there tomorrow."

"I don't know-" Charlie said, sounding doubtful.

"You don't know, _what_?"

"Monte says he's afraid to come to school, because he thinks that I'll make him disappear," Charlie said, in a rush.

"How many days has he missed of school?"

"All week," Charlie admitted.

Scott was the one who sighed now, looking ahead to the road in front for a few moments, and then he turned back to

Charlie. "Alright. Here's what's going to happen. I'll take you to school in the morning, but before that, we'll go the house,

and you can talk to John there."

The thought of admitting her misdeeds to John was humiliating enough. But, the thought of having to do it at John's own

home, with his mother there, and maybe even his father, well, that was beyond horrible.

Charlie knew better than to plead, to ask if she really had to do this, but she did say, in a subdued tone,

"What if his father is there?"

"Then I guess he'll be there," Scott said, not sounding sympathetic.

Charlie bit at her lower lip.

"Are we clear on how it's going to go?" Scott asked her.

"Yes."

"Okay," Scott said, and urged his horse into motion again. Charlie did the same. She was wondering if Scott

was really angry, or just a little bit angry. She wondered if he was going to say or do anything more about this. Going to

have to unburden herself to John was punishment enough, Charlie felt. She was silent the rest of the ride home. She

wasn't about to ask any questions about the extent of his anger, or prompt him to speak of more punishment.

Once at the ranch, dismounted from the horses, Scott reached out to take Gurth's reins from Charlie.

"I'll take care of the horses. You head on in and get started on your schoolwork. Ask Teresa if she would please

start some water heating for your bath," he said.

Charlie set out for the house, and paused when Scott spoke, sharply. "Charlie."

When she had turned to look back at him, he said, "You need to answer me, so I know that you heard me."

"Yes. I heard you," Charlie said. Wonderful. Now, he was more aggravated with her.

"After your bath, we'll talk some more," he said.

"Alright," Charlie said, thinking to herself how quickly downhill a day could go.

L

L


	52. Unexpected Ally

Charlie went to gather up her school work, fielding questions from Murdoch and Teresa about how old Burl had been

faring.

Charlie relayed that yes, he'd seemed as though he appreciated the food; and yes, she and Scott had already had

their evening meal, eating with Burl; and yes, they'd stayed out of the rain for the most part. Teresa went agreeably to

begin heating the water for Charlie's bath, and Charlie took her arithmetic up to her room. She shed her overalls and wrapped

a quilt around herself. The overalls felt damp and uncomfortable, and the quilt felt warm. Sitting on the window seat,

she worked on the sums, until Teresa came to tap on her door.

"Your bath's ready," Teresa said. "Johnny carried the water up for me."

"Alright," Charlie said.

"You'd better go and get in," Teresa said, when Charlie just sat there. "It's nice and hot now, but it won't stay that

way."

Charlie went to the washroom, shedding the quilt and her underthings, and stepping into the hot water of the bathtub.

She sank down in the water, letting it come up to her chin. She scrubbed herself, feeling as warm as she'd been for several

hours. After a time, Teresa came into the room.

"Want me to wash your hair for you?" Teresa offered.

Charlie nodded without speaking, and Teresa poured warm water over Charlie's auburn curls, and began to shampoo vigorously.

"Where's Scott?" Charlie asked, in the midst of the shampooing and rinsing.

"In the library, having a drink with Murdoch."

Charlie sighed heavily.

"He said Burl seemed well, and that the meal he prepared was really good," Teresa said.

"It was. It was squirrel."

"Burl probably eats a lot of squirrel and rabbit meat, since he doesn't have access to beef," Teresa mused.

"I told Scott about what happened with John," Charlie said, brushing her wet hair from her eyes.

Teresa, reaching for a towel to rub Charlie's wet hair with, paused. "I'm glad."

"He would have found out anyway," Charlie said, in discouragement.

"Yes. Probably. But, you'll feel better now that it's out in the open."

"That's a falsehood," Charlie said, and Teresa smiled, rubbing Charlie's hair with the towel.

"Are you getting out?" Teresa asked, laying the towel aside.

"Uh uh," Charlie said.

When Teresa had gone, Charlie kept sitting there, until the bath water was cooled. A firm rap on the door

of the washroom startled her.

"Charlie. Time to get ready for bed."

Charlie sighed. She got out of the chilly water, and dried her skin, and then pulled her nightgown over her head.

She opened the door, and into the vacant hallway, down the hall to her own room. Scott was sitting on the window

seat, looking over her arithmetic sums.

"Did I get a lot of them wrong?" she asked.

"No more than two or three," he said. "You did well."

Charlie stood there, watching him, and he laid the paper aside, and patted the spot next to him.

"Come and sit," he said.

When Charlie was sitting next to him, he asked her if she'd been thinking, while she took her bath, about what she'd

done.

When Charlie said that yes, she had, Scott asked her, "And why was it wrong to do that?"

"Because it's never right to let someone think something that's not true," Charlie recited.

"Well, that's part of it. So you understand why it's important that you apologize to John?"

Charlie hesitated, and then said, "I understand why it's important that I tell him I can't do magic, that I can't make him disappear."

"What about the apology? You don't understand that?" Scott asked.

Charlie regarded him seriously. "I guess I'll say yes, that I do, because I don't want you to be mad at me."

Scott looked startled, and then said, "Explain that to me."

"John's a nuisance. He's not nice. I'll tell him that I can't do anything to him, but-" she hesitated, and then

plucked up her courage and told the truth. "I don't feel sorry for it."

Scott took that in, looking nonplussed, and then he ran a hand over his face, letting it rest a moment on his chin.

Finally he said, "I see."

"Are you angry, because that's the way I feel?" she asked, anxious, and already regretting her honest statement.

"No. That's how you feel." He took hold of Charlie's wrist, and gave a gentle tug, pulling her to her feet, and

to the position, right in front of him. The position that most nearly always meant that he was getting ready to

scold her, or lay down a rule.

"Charlie, I can't make you feel sorry for something that you've done. Nobody can do that. A person has to make up their

own mind when they feel regret for something. The thing about apologies is, usually they don't mean much if they don't come the

heart. Sometimes, though, it's still the right thing to apologize. Even if you don't feel it. In those cases it's for the other person's

benefit. And it helps the one that's doing the apologizing to feel a little more humble."

Scott waited a few moments, watching Charlie's face, which clearly expressed her emotions as she took in everything

that he'd said.

"This is one of those times. Where I'm going to have you apologize to John, even though you don't feel that you owe

him one," Scott said.

Charlie met his eyes with her own huge brown ones. There was no use to protest. He'd said his piece, and there

would be no swaying him otherwise.

"Alright," he said, giving Charlie's hip a pat, "Hop into bed, and we'll read a few pages of our book."

L

Driving towards town the next morning, Charlie sat beside Scott on the buggy seat. She was, without first noticing,

twisting her hands together nervously. When she did realize it, she placed them on each side of her, under her legs,

determined to keep them still.

Scott was quiet, and since Charlie's thoughts were jumping around, she didn't feel inclined for conversation. Thus, it was

a quiet ride for the most part.

At the street that John and Monte lived on, Scott pulled the buggy to a halt. It was a nice house. Large, with a wraparound porch, and

lots of flowers out front.

Charlie sat there, after Scott had parked, staring towards the house, and feeling dread creep up onto her.

"It won't get any easier by waiting," Scott said, quietly.

Charlie looked at him, beseechingly, but Scott looked intractable.

Charlie jumped down from the buggy, and then stood there, again looking towards the house.

She took a couple of steps forward, and then twisted back, to look up at him, her hand on the buggy wheel.

"Will you come with me?" she asked, hopefully.

"I'll walk with you to the gate," he said, and got out of the buggy. They walked over to the gate, which led

by a flower-covered path, to the porch. At the gate, Scott stopped just outside.

Charlie looked at him, yet again, and he said, quietly, "Go on."

At that moment, unable to sway Scott to sympathy enough to accompany her the rest of the way,

Charlie vowed to herself that if she ever had a daughter, she would not make her ever, ever, ever, apologize to a little weasel like John.

Charlie walked to the porch, and up the vast steps, and standing before the ornate door, she lifted the heavy

door knocker. There were steps sounding from inside the house, and then the door was opened by John's mother.

"Good morning," she said, and then she seemed to recognize who it was that stood there on her porch.

"You're Charlie," she said then, her tone decidedly frosty.

"Yes, ma'm."

"What do you want?"

"I wondered if I could talk with John for a bit," Charlie said bravely.

John's mother's gaze swept out to where Scott stood outside the gate.

"John's not feeling well."

"Yes, I know that, but if I could talk to him for a minute-"

"You are the reason he's not feeling well, young lady. Are you aware of that?" Mrs. Johnson asked.

Standing there under the scathing tongue and piercing eye of John's mother, Charlie wished she could just turn and run back to the

buggy.

"I'm sorry about that," Charlie said, hoping that Scott was right about an apology making her seem more humble to this

angry mother. It certainly was making her feel humbled by saying it. And then, to Charlie's further horror, Mr. Johnson came

to stand beside his wife. He said nothing, just listened, and regarded Charlie with a stony look.

"I want to explain to John," Charlie said. John's mother appeared unmoved, but John's father said, sounding

gruff, "The boy can come and speak to her."

"Bart-" Mrs. Johnson began to protest.

"Lettie. Go and get John," Mr. Johnson said, sounding firm.

"Alright," Mrs. Johnson said, giving in. "But, I don't know that he's going to want to hear anything she has to say."

She went into the inner part of the house, and Charlie stood, feeling like Mr. Johnson was searing a hole thru her with his

eyes. He was frightening. That's what he was, alright.

Mr. Johnson stepped on out onto the porch, and raised a hand in greeting to Scott.

"Howdy, Scott," he called out.

"Morning," Scott called back.

Mr. Johnson reached into his pocket, and took out a cigar, lighting it, and taking a long draw.

It seemed an interminable amount of time before Mrs. Johnson and John returned. Charlie had to restrain herself from turning to look back towards

Scott.

"What happened to cause this?" Mr. Johnson asked, suddenly.

Charlie flicked her glance up to him, startled. "What?"

"Why'd you tell my boy you were a witch?"

"I didn't-" Charlie began, aghast. "I never said such! I said I could do magic-" she admitted, her face feeling hot. "But, I didn't

say I was a witch, honestly I didn't, Mr. Johnson!"

John's father regarded her out of a gaze that had Charlie feeling rattled. Truly.

"You felt you had reason to say you were able to do magic?" Mr. Johnson asked, then.

Charlie hesitated, and then answered honestly, "I thought I had reason."

"Hmm," the older man responded, still watching Charlie keenly.

Finally, Mrs. Johnson stood there again, in the doorway, and John was standing just behind her. John looked strange. He looked pale

and his eyes were huge as he looked at Charlie.

"Here's John," Mrs. Johnson said, rather unnecessarily.

"Hello," Charlie said, gathering her courage, and greeting John.

John was silent, peering around his mother.

"I came here to talk to you," Charlie said, trying to sound confident. "To explain some things-"

"Ma, I don't wanna talk to 'er," John said, in a whine.

Charlie blinked, in surprise. John sounded like a really small child. Not like how he usually talked at all.

Mrs. Johnson was busy patting John, soothingly. "I know," she said, softly.

Wondering whether to plunge on into an explanation, and apology, or wait, Charlie hesitated. She felt her face flame

hot in embarrassment.

"John can listen to her," Mr. Johnson said, surprising Charlie.

"I don't wanna-" John whined again. "She's gonna do somethin' to me-"

"Hush, boy," Mr. Johnson said, so severely that John fell silent, though he was still watching Charlie as though he was petrified. Charlie

realized that John really did believe that she could do harm to him.

"The girl came here, so you'll hear her out,'' Mr. Johnson went on. And, then, he gave a nod to Charlie. A nod, which quite plainly

said, 'Speak up'.

So Charlie began, stumbling over words at the first. "The apple was just a trick, not-magic. And I saw your spelling by

accident. I-well, I can't do any magic, or make things disappear, or any of that."

John stepped further behind his mother, and Charlie saw that he was genuinely frightened. She felt a prickling of

conscience.

"John, I shouldn't have told you that I could do magic. I'm sorry if I scared you. It was wrong of me to do," Charlie said.

What she could see of John's face, he did not appear to be convinced. A flicked glance at Mr. Johnson bolstered Charlie a bit.

He nodded at Charlie, and she thought he looked approving of her apology.

She straightened, standing taller, and looked back at John.

"I hope you come back to school soon," Charlie said, and found that she meant it. Partly, in truth, because then she wouldn't feel

so guilty.

"It's not likely that he'll feel up to that-" Mrs. Johnson began, harshly.

"Lettie," Mr. Johnson said. That one word had his wife halting her talking.

"You can go on along inside the house, Lettie," Mr. Johnson continued. "John, you stay."

Mrs. Johnson was obviously upset by this declaration. But, she turned to go, trying to pry John from the grasp he had

around her waist.

"Come here, son," Mr. Johnson said, and pulled John to his side. Mrs. Johnson went, giving Charlie a last withering look.

John stood there by his father, kept in place only because of Mr. Johnson's firm hold on his shoulder.

Charlie didn't know what else to say. She'd confessed. She'd even apologized. She'd told John she wished his return to school.

Surely, there was nothing else to do?

"Now, she's told you that she can do you no harm," Mr. Johnson spoke to John. "She's come here to make things right. You

can acknowledge that."

John was quiet, still giving Charlie furtive glances, though he didn't look as frightened or pale as he had before.

"John," Mr. Johnson said, giving him a mild shake.

"Alright. I guess," John said, sounding less scared, but sullen.

"What'd you do to help bring this whole trouble along?" Mr. Johnson asked John.

John shook his head, looking up at his father. "I didn't do nothin' to her, Pa!"

Something inside of Charlie told her to keep still, not protest.

"Is that so, young lady?" Mr. Johnson asked.

"No. He's been following me around, and-" Charlie hesitated, thinking that John's father wouldn't find any real fault in that.

"And generally making a right nuisance of himself, hmm?" Mr. Johnson continued, raising an eyebrow at Charlie.

It took Charlie a full-on moment to realize that Mr. Johnson was understanding about John, and not only that, but he was

making a joke, too.

She found herself nearly smiling at Mr. Johnson. "Yes, sir," she said.

Mr. Johnson nodded, and then gave John another bit of a gentle shake. "What say you, John?"

John looked at Charlie, and said, reluctantly, "I won't bother ya no more."

Another press of his father's hands on his shoulders, and John added, "Sorry."

"Alright," Mr. Johnson said. "You go on along inside now, son, and get ready for school."

John didn't look happy, but he went. To Charlie's surprise, Mr. Johnson went walking down the path, towards

the gate where Scott stood, waiting.

She followed, wondering. She watched as the two men shook hands, and then John's father said, "I believe the young'uns

have gotten things cleared up, Scott."

"That's good to hear," Scott said.

A few minutes later, as they were driving the short distance to school, Charlie found herself thinking that she quite

liked Mr. Johnson, after all.

L


	53. Train trip

When Scott pulled up near to the front of the school house, he and Charlie sat for a moment in quiet, as other children were rushing

by.

"Glad that it's over?" Scott asked Charlie.

"Yes," Charlie said. Then, she added, "Mr. Johnson was nice."

"That's good. I'm glad about that." Scott gave her a half-smile. He reached to the floor of the buggy, and handed

Charlie her lunch pail.

"Tell Miss Susan that you will be absent tomorrow," Scott said then. "See if she can give you your school work, so you don't get

behind."

For a long, full moment, Charlie stared at Scott, daring to hope.

"I get to go with you?" she asked.

"You can go," Scott said.

Charlie gave him one of her dimpled smiles. She'd thought for sure that Scott wouldn't take her along to Stockton on his trip,

after what she'd confessed about John. She wasn't going to say that, though. Not when he'd given her such a happy surprise.

"I'll ask Miss Susan for the school work," she said, in promise.

"Alright. Somebody will be in town to pick you up today after school lets out," Scott said.

Charlie nodded in response, and prepared to hop down from the buggy. At the last moment, she turned back in her seat,

and gave Scott a ferocious hug.

L

Teresa came to collect Charlie that afternoon when school was dismissed. After Jelly met them and said he would

unhitch the buggy, and tend to the horse, they went inside. A surprise, a shock actually, awaited them there, in the kitchen.

Burl sat at the kitchen table, with Murdoch, and the two men were doing something with what looked to Charlie like walnut shells. Maria

stood at the stove, stirring something in a big pot.

Teresa exchanged a glance with Charlie, but gave a welcome as though Burl came to the ranch every day to visit.

"Hello," she told Murdoch, going to give him a kiss on his forehead.

"Good afternoon," Teresa said, then, in greeting to Burl.

"Good day to you," Burl responded.

Charlie felt a second burst of pleasure. Not only was Burl sitting here, in the Lancer kitchen, but he was speaking

in his 'leprechaun' persona.

"Hello, darling," Murdoch told Charlie, as she stepped closer to the table.

Charlie said hello, and wanted to ask Burl why he'd decided to come to Lancer, how he'd gotten here, was he going to stay

for supper, all of those things. But, she didn't.

Instead, she watched as Murdoch and Burl played a 'shell game'. Then Burl went along to the library, where he and Murdoch poured

over maps. Charlie wanted to stay and listen, and would have, but Teresa came to the doorway and told Charlie to come

along and help with some things.

When Charlie hesitated, Murdoch told her to run along, and help Teresa.

"Burl will stay and have supper with us," he told Charlie.

So, Charlie went, albeit reluctantly. She helped Teresa carry in the dried wash off the clothesline, and then to set the table. She was

brimming with excitement when Scott and Johnny appeared.

"Burl's here!" she said, pulling at Scott's arm.

"How about that?" Scott said, and Charlie knew then, that Scott had already known.

L

Supper was a prepared stew that Burl had brought, and Maria had reheated. There was Maria's bread to go with it, and

sliced peaches.

"Is it squirrel stew?" Charlie asked Burl.

"Ah, it's rabbit, lass," Burl answered.

Charlie had never eaten rabbit, either, and found that she liked it just as well as the squirrel.

Burl had walked out from town, to bring the already cleaned rabbit for their supper.

Once supper was over, Teresa told Charlie to go on along to the library, to listen to the conversation.

"I know you want to," the older girl said, with a smile at Charlie. "I'll clear and do up the dishes."

"Thanks," Charlie said, gratefully. "I'll do for you sometime."

"I'll remind you of that," Teresa said.

Charlie followed the men happily to Murdoch's library. She was excited to hear Burl tell stories. High on her list of hopeful

stories was if he was descended from royalty, as he had once suggested.

In the library, Burl and Murdoch looked over a large map that Murdoch unrolled and spread out over the desk.

They discussed Scotland, and Charlie was surprised by how learned that Burl seemed to be.

And then, to Charlie's joy, Burl sat back in one of Murdoch's easy chairs, with a drink of whiskey in his hand, and told

them that he came from a small village in Ireland called Kerry.

Charlie sat next to Scott on the sofa, listening, enthralled, as Burl talked of the Great Famine of the 1840s, in Ireland.

"It ravaged our country," Burl said, sounding as though he was far away, his eyes on the whiskey in his glass. "Food became

so scarce, people were starving. Dying."

"I've read it was a terrible time," Murdoch said, when there had been silence for more than a few moments.

"A terror that I still think of," Burl said.

Charlie had never heard of the 'Great Famine'. She wondered all sorts of things. How it had began. How it had ended.

She kept still, though, worried that if she spoke out, it might stop Burl from his recollections and musings.

Burl went on to say that his family had been one of the wealthiest in the area. With noble ties. He talked of his sisters,

and parents, and how thousands, or more, Irish emigrants boarded boats bound for American shores.

The clock struck seven, and the stories went on. It struck eight, and Burl said he must be getting home.

"I'll drive you home," Johnny said, and though Burl protested, Johnny was insistent, coupled with Murdoch's agreement.

Scott said he would go along, as well, and that he would hitch up the wagon.

"Can I ride along?" Charlie asked, as they all stood up.

She amended it quickly to 'may I', before Scott could respond, and then he said, "No. You head on to up to bed."

Charlie kept her protest to herself.

So, it was Murdoch who came later to tuck her into bed.

He offered to read, but Charlie said no, that she would rather talk.

Murdoch sat down on the edge of the bed, and Charlie sat close to him, feeling a bit emotional.

"What caused that 'Great Famine'?" she asked him.

"Potatoes were the main food product grown there at that time. There was a blight on the potatoes, so there wasn't

enough food. People starved. Or died of disease," Murdoch said.

"What's a blight?" Charlie asked.

"It's a disease of a plant. It destroys the leaves and the roots both."

"Oh." Charlie considered that. "So the potato plants got the blight, and there wasn't enough food. Did the people get

the same disease that the potatoes had?"

"No. They got typhus and dysentery. And relapsing fever."

"So they all wanted to come to America?"

"They had hopes of a better life, I'm sure."

"I wonder what made Burl decide to come out to visit us today?" Charlie mused.

"I don't know, darling."

"Well, but I'm awfully glad that he did, aren't you?" Charlie asked him.

"Yes. I'm glad."

L

The next morning Charlie was awake and up earlier than was usual. She dressed quickly in her denims and shirt, and braided her

hair. She thrust a change of clothes into a valise, and laid her hairbrush on top. Downstairs before Maria had even finished cooking the breakfast, she helped, chattering with excitement.

Finally, during breakfast, Scott told her to eat her breakfast, and slow down her talking.

Charlie did her best to comply, finishing her eggs and toasted bread.

"Gather some things in a bag," Scott began to tell her, as they finished their meal.

"I'm all finished," Charlie reported. "My bag's by the front door, ready to go."

"Oh, it is, huh?" Scott asked, looking amused, and pushing in his chair.

"Is there a dress in that bag?" he asked then, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Charlie said, honestly. "I didn't think I would need a dress."

"Charlie, that's silly," Teresa reproved, stacking the plates. "Of course you need to take a dress."

"Do I?" Charlie asked, looking up at Scott, hopeful he would say that she did not.

"I think it would be a good idea," he said.

"You might go somewhere nice for dinner," Teresa added.

"Alright," Charlie said, trying to be gracious.

She went upstairs and pulled out the plainest dress she could find, adding stockings and going back down to

stuff them into the bag.

When she went out, carrying her bag, she found Scott saddling both of their horses, his own valise setting on the

ground nearby. Maria followed Charlie out, with a wrapped parcel that no doubt held food.

Murdoch came out from the house, to see them off.

"Be safe," he said, and then to Charlie, he said, "Have a fine time."

Charlie hugged his waist.

"We'll see you when you get home, then," Murdoch said, giving Scott's shoulder a pat.

"Alright," Scott said.

"Oh, jumping Jupiter," Charlie said. "I'll be right back!"

"Where are you going?" Scott asked as she tore to the house.

"I forgot something!" Charlie hollered back.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, Charlie took her saved-up money from underneath her clothes in one of the bureau drawers. She put the

coins in a loose stocking and then ran back outside again. Scott was mounted, holding Gurth's reins in his hand.

Charlie mounted swiftly, and they set out for town, as she put the stocking filled with change into a corner of her valise, tied to the

saddlebags.

Once in town, they stabled the horses, with Scott giving the man there money to feed and care for them.

Then they walked over to the train depot, where he paid for two round trip tickets to Stockton. They didn't have to

wait long, until the train arrived, and they boarded. Once settled in their seats, Charlie next to the window, she looked about

in excitement, watching the other passengers as they boarded.

"I've only been on a train once before," she shared with Scott.

When Scott turned to look at her, Charlie wished she'd kept still. Why had she wanted to remind him of that ill-fated day

when she'd been on the train without benefit of a paid ticket, on the run from Katherine, and getting into trouble?

Charlie lifted her shoulders, just barely, in an attempt to convey to Scott that she knew she'd been in the wrong.

"This ride should be more enjoyable, that's for sure," Scott said.

"Yes," Charlie agreed. As the train began to lurch and chug forward, ready to pull out, she added, "We met that day, though, so

it was not all bad."

"That part of it was good," Scott said, in agreement. "But, from now on, you do it the way you are today. With a ticket, and with

an adult. Right?"

"Yes," Charlie said, again, wanting to bring the conversation to a finish, so they could begin enjoying themselves.

Scott said no more on that topic, and as the train journey began, Charlie amused herself by looking out the window, at

the rapidly passing terrain. Occasionally, Scott would lean across, and point out something of interest to her.

They shared some of Maria's cookies, and Charlie wished for a drink.

Scott told her about the more opulent trains, where there were dining cars, serving a variety of tasty foods.

"That would be nice," Charlie said.

"We'll take a trip to San Francisco sometime, so we can do that," Scott said, in promise.

All in all, when they got off of the train in Stockton, Charlie felt that it had been a fun, though brief, trip. They were within

walking distance to the hotel, and carried their valises. The streets were crowded with shoppers, though it was mid-week,

and Charlie was glad when they reached the hotel. Scott checked in, and they went upstairs to settle in before the meeting at the

bank.

"There's sure a lot of people on the streets," Charlie said.

"Usually there is," Scott said. "Hang up your dress, there on the hook, so it won't be so wrinkled."

"I'd sort of forgotten," Charlie said, obediently taking out the dress, and hanging it on the hook on the wall. "About how

busy the streets are in a city, I mean."

"Being away from it, that happens," Scott said.

He took a look at the large clock on the wall, and said, "We can take a slow walk to the bank. It'll be about time for the

meeting then, and after that, we'll decide what we want to do. Alright?"

Charlie agreed, and they set out, Scott locking the door as they went, and Charlie carrying the copy of 'Little Men'.

Being near the noon hour, there were even more shoppers on the sidewalks, and those intent on their lunch-time meal.

When they reached the bank building, and went in, Mr. Beets was summoned, and came out from an office, smiling

in welcome. He shook Scott's hand vigorously, and greeted Charlie in pleasure.

"I didn't know you were coming along," he said to Charlie.

"We decided it'd be a good time for a little get-away," Scott said.

"That's fine. Just fine," Beets said. "There are two other members of the board here already, in my office. Would you like to come

on back? Charlotte, are you joining us?"

Charlie looked to Scott, and Scott answered Beets. "I think she can come back and talk for a few minutes with everyone, and

then sit here in the lobby while we finish up."

Beets nodded, looking as though he approved.

They walked back to Beets' office, which was familiar to Charlie from past meetings, though it had been a long while she

she'd been here. She said hello, when greeted by the other two men, who stood up as she and Scott came into the room.

Scott shook hands as he was introduced to Mr. Wilkos, and Mr. Shane. Both men made casual conversation with Charlie,

asking her about school, and other mundane things. Charlie answered their questions, and they said they would speak with

her again before she and Scott left.

Charlie was excused to go out into the bank lobby, where she read for a scant few minutes. There was so much activity

in the bank that she finally gave up the attempt at reading, and did some people-watching.

L


	54. The Trip

The meeting lasted so long that Charlie grew bored. She people-watched, until the crowd thinned out a bit. She wished

she had asked Scott if she could walk to the store on the corner.

Charlie was glad to see the door of Mr. Beets office open, and Scott and the other men exit. She sat up straight in her

hard-backed chair, and when it was only Scott and Beets left there, talking, Charlie got up to walk over to them.

"I look forward to visiting soon," Beets said to Charlie. "You and I can look some more flowers to identify, shall we?"

"Yes," Charlie said, smiling at Beets.

"I have a book of plants and flowers common for the area," Beets went on. "I thought I'd bring it, and together we

might use it. Would you like that?"

Charlie nodded. "That sounds nice," she said.

"Well, we'll plan on it then," Beets told her.

"When will you come?" Charlie asked him.

"If I can finish up some things here tomorrow, then I'll come for the weekend." He looked to Scott. "Do you think that

would be convenient for everyone at the ranch?"

"I'm sure it'll be just fine," Scott said. "We'll look forward to it."

"Scott and I are going to supper in a nice restaurant," Charlie informed the banker.

"Are you now?" Beets asked, smiling at her.

The two men began discussing a new restaurant that had only just been opened, and which Beets said offered fine

food.

"Maybe we'll think about that then, huh?" Scott said, looking at Charlie.

Charlie nodded, and they said goodbye to Beets, again speaking of the upcoming weekend visit.

Once out on the sidewalk, Scott said, "We should get a bite to eat. How does that sound?"

"We could have just pie," Charlie suggested. "That way we'd be really hungry for tonight's supper."

"We could do that," Scott said, looking amused. "But I think we should save the pie for after supper tonight, and

have a quick sandwich right now."

"Okay," Charlie said, in agreement. A few minutes later they were seated at a café, eating roast beef sandwiches, and

with Scott drinking coffee, and Charlie having lemonade.

"Was the meeting good?" Charlie asked.

"The meeting went fine," Scott told her.

"I've never really liked that one man on the board. Mr. Cotton," Charlie shared.

"Why's that?"

"He always talked to Katherine, and never to me," Charlie said.

"Well, maybe he was of the thought that it was Katherine that made the decisions, so it was her he should talk to."

Charlie had finished her sandwich, and pushed her plate away, resting her elbows on the table and sipping at her

lemonade.

"You mean the way that some grownups think, that children should be seen, but not heard?" Charlie asked.

"That could be it."

"Mr. Beets isn't like that. Or the other men on the board. And, you're not like that. You don't believe that, do you?" Charlie

asked.

"There's a time and place that you need be still and quiet. But, I don't think it's all of the time, no."

"Did your grandfather believe that way? That you should be seen and not heard?" Charlie asked.

"He was of that school of thought, for the most part."

"What if you disagreed with him, though?" Charlie asked. "Could you tell him?"

"No, that would have been frowned upon," Scott said.

"I agree with you on things," Charlie told him, and Scott half-smiled.

"Do you?" he asked.

"Well," Charlie considered, and then added honestly, "Mostly, I do."

"That's good to hear," Scott said.

Scott looked up at the large clock on the wall. "We have time to do some walking. How's that?"

"Yes," Charlie said, with a happy nod.

They went out onto the wooden sidewalk again, and made their way to the larger store. Charlie had been in this store

many times, but not for months.

"May I look at the books?" Charlie asked, and Scott nodded. They separated briefly, Scott to peruse the store, and Charlie to the

shelves with books. She had two weeks worth of allowance with her, plus what she had saved, minus, of course the three cents

per week she gave Murdoch to keep for her.

There were so many more books here than there was at the small general store at home. Charlie realized that she'd forgotten that

there were certain benefits to a bigger city. She had found two books she wanted to purchase and was trying to choose between them, when

another thought occurred to her. Maybe she should buy Scott a present. It wasn't his birthday or anything like that, but it would be

nice if she did, anyway. She realized she'd never really purchased a gift for Scott. Not in all the months she'd known him.

With her new goal in her mind, Charlie began to look over the store with a new outlook.

She didn't know what sort of gifts that a man would really like. A gun, or a knife, maybe. She didn't have enough money for those, though.

And, besides, she wouldn't know which to buy. She looked over the pocket knives in the case, though, trying not to be obvious about

it.

"About ready?" Scott said, from beside her, and Charlie looked up at him, not wanting him to suspect anything.

"Could I look a little longer?" she asked.

"If you want to. I tell you what, I'll be sitting outside, alright?"

That couldn't get any better! Charlie said alright, and after Scott had gone outside, she began her surveying of the store contents

again. There was a book she thought he might like. 'Outlines of Astronomy' it was called. The cover was dark brown and Charlie thought

the book had a dignified look. That is, if it was possible for a book to have such a thing.

A pocketknife caught her eye. It wasn't a very large one, but it had a white pearl handle.

"May I help you, young lady?" the clerk asked her.

Looking up into his face, Charlie realized that she knew the man. Well, not really knew. She didn't know his name or anything like that. But,

he'd chased after she and some of the other kids when she'd used to run with the gang. And, she knew for sure that his windows

had been busted out a couple of different times.

For a long moment, Charlie wondered if he would recognize her, being close up the way that he was now. She held her breath.

"It's unusual we get such a pretty young lady looking at our collection of knives and such," the clerk said, smiling at Charlie.

He didn't. Recognize her. Charlie thought it must be because she looked different now. Even though she was dressed in

denim pants and a blouse, she looked presentable. Her hair was braided neatly, Teresa had seen to that. And her clothes were

clean, not rumply and dirty, and over-sized as she'd worn when she'd been a part of the hijinks. Also, too, she'd always kept

her hair covered with that grungy old hat then.

"I'm thinking of one for a gift for someone," Charlie told him.

"Well, that would be a nice gift, indeed. Which one did you admire?"

"That one," Charlie said, pointing.

"Oh, yes, that one's nice. Would you like me to take it out?"

"Yes, please," Charlie said, and then quickly asked, "How much is it?"

There was no point to having it taken out and getting excited about giving it to Scott. Not if she didn't have enough money.

When the clerk replied, Charlie breathed. She had just enough. It would take all her spending money. But, it would be worth it.

"Is it a good knife?" Charlie asked. "I mean, it's sort of small."

"Oh, it's a fine knife. There's plenty of uses for a smaller knife, as well. That's a pearl handle, right there."

Looking out the opened door, Charlie could see Scott standing, leaning against one of the store posts, and just

watching the passers-by.

"I want to buy it," Charlie said, making up her mind swiftly. She took out the stocking in her pocket, and emptied out

her money. She counted it out to the clerk, who beamed at her.

"This for your father?" he asked. "Grandfather, maybe?"

Charlie settled for just nodding, and not explaining anything.

"I'll wrap it for you, real nice," he said, and did that swiftly, while Charlie put away her few remaining coins.

"You must have been saving for a long spell to be able to buy this," the clerk said then.

Charlie only nodded, eager for him to finish so she could be on her way.

Outside in the sunshine, Scott was still leaning there, against the store column.

"All finished?" he asked Charlie.

"Yes," Charlie said.

"Decided not to buy a book, hmm?" Scott asked.

"Not today," Charlie said.

She'd tucked the small package with the knife into her pocket, so she knew Scott assumed she'd bought nothing.

It would be a grand surprise for him later. Charlie was thinking over when to give the gift to Scott.

They walked a bit more around the area, and Scott had just suggested they go back to the hotel room to change for

their supper meal out.

There was the sound of glass smashing, and Charlie looked around, as did all the folks within hearing range, to see where it

had come from.

And then, there were pounding feet down the sidewalk, and folks stood aside in a hurry, as a group of kids hurled past.

They were dressed in dirty clothes, and hats, and they were hooting and hollering as they ran past those on the sidewalk.

Then there was shouting, and a store owner ran from the alley nearby.

"Stop those kids!" came the shout, as the store clerk came to a breathless halt, his white apron flapping.

Charlie, along with Scott, and others, watched as the kids disappeared around a corner.

The shop keeper let loose with a curse.

"Darn kids," he muttered. "I'm getting fed up with repairing my windows. Need to send them to a work house, teach them

some manners-"

Charlie watched in silent horror as the scene played out in front of her eyes. Other store keepers and passer-bys gathered for

a few minutes to commiserate with one another. Over the lack of decency in the young, and the lack of involvement of the

local police staff.

Scott put a hand on the back of Charlie's neck. "Let's go," he said, quietly, and steered Charlie thru the crowd that had

gathered. Once they were out of the throng, Scott dropped his hand from her neck, and they walked in silence. Scott gave

her a glance, and then another. He saw the expression on her face, and felt his heart tug a bit.

He reached down and took her small hand in his. Still they were quiet, reaching the hotel, and Scott retrieved the key

from the front desk clerk.

Charlie preceded him up the stairs, and at the door to the room, she waited as Scott unlocked the door.

Once inside, Charlie went to sit on one of the beds, her feet dangling a few inches from the floor.

Scott closed the door and went to lay the key on the bedside table, watching Charlie the whole while.

"So, should we try the new place tonight for supper?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Charlie said, with a nod.

Scott, intent on changing his shirt, loosened it from the waist of his pants, and then, he came over to

sit beside Charlie on the bed.

"That bothered you, didn't it?" he asked, quietly. "Seeing those kids?"

Charlie looked at him, and nodded, nipping at her lower lip.

"Why do you think it bothered you so much?" he asked, still quietly.

"It made me remember-how things were. And, things that I did."

"You're not doing those things anymore," Scott said. "You learned from it, didn't you?"

Charlie nodded solemnly.

"It's just-" she hesitated. "They're still doing it."

"Did you think they were going to stop?"

"I guess not."

"Did you recognize them?"

"Not really. They ran by so fast," Charlie said.

After another few moments of quiet, Scott said, "Go on in the washroom and change to your dress. I've got a surprise

for you."

Her interest caught, Charlie asked, "You do? What is it?"

"You'll see."

"I've got a surprise for you, too," Charlie told him.

"You do?"

At Charlie's nod, he said, teasingly, "What is it?"

Charlie stood up, and took her dress from the hook it was hanging on. "You'll see," she told him.

L

"


	55. Bountiful finds

They took a hansom cab to the new restaurant. Scott had a steak and baked potato, but Charlie chose something new. Noodles in a

tomato sauce, with cheese sprinkled on the top.

A bit into the meal, and Scott asked, "How do you like it?"

Charlie nodded with enthusiasm. "I like it. It's good. I think Murdoch would like it. Do you think Maria would make it?"

"She would, I'm sure. There's no reason you couldn't prepare it for everyone yourself, though," Scott told her.

Charlie liked the idea of preparing a new recipe for the whole family.

Charlie looked across the table at him. He had finished his steak, or nearly. Since she had no pocket in her dress, she had carried

the small wrapped package in her hand, and then sat with it tucked under her skirt during the meal.

Charlie pulled the brown-wrapper package out and laid it on the table, pushing it across the table towards him.

She said nothing, just watching as Scott took it in, and then smiled at Charlie.

"What's this, my surprise?" he asked.

Charlie nodded. "A present," she verified.

Scott reached out and picked up the package. He turned it over and gave it a careful perusal, drawing out the moment

of suspense.

"I wonder what it could be," he said, teasing.

Charlie enjoyed his teasing. "Open it," she told him.

"Alright," he said, and unwrapped the paper. When he took out the pocket knife, he held it up, and then

looked to Charlie. Charlie thought he looked faintly surprised.

"This is really something," he said, and began to open the blades, while Charlie watched, feeling warm inside.

"It's a small one," Charlie said.

"A smaller knife has plenty of uses," Scott said, echoing what the store clerk had said earlier. Charlie figured that men knew

about such things.

"The handle sure is pretty," he said. Then he smiled at her again. "Thank you. It's a real nice surprise."

"You're welcome," Charlie said.

"Since we're doing the surprises now," Scott said, and then he pulled out a small package from his pocket. It was tiny enough, and

that Charlie hadn't even noticed it there. He pushed it across the table to Charlie, similar to the way that Charlie had a few minutes

earlier.

It was wrapped in similar brown wrapping that his own had been. Charlie took the package and opened it, filled with

anticipation.

Inside the package was a small gold locket, and Charlie sat looking at it for a moment, feeling something she didn't

understand.

"Do you remember that?" Scott asked her, quietly.

"I don't think so," Charlie said.

"It was your mother's," Scott said.

Charlie gave him a startled look. "It was?"

Scott nodded.

Charlie looked at the necklace again. "Where did you get it?" she asked.

"When Katherine was at the ranch last, she mentioned that she had some jewelry of your mother's. I thought about it, and

I asked Beets if he could get it for you. She came to him with this, and a bracelet, and some rings. Some of it is a bit too grownup for

you now, but when you're older, you can have it as well. I thought the locket was something you could have now," Scott said.

Charlie ran her fingers over the locket. "It's so beautiful," she said. "I wish I could remember her wearing it."

"Maybe she didn't wear it that often. She might have kept it for special occasions," Scott said.

"Do I think I could wear it all the time? Or should I save it for special occasions, too?" Charlie asked him.

"It's yours, Charlie. You can wear it every day if you want to."

Charlie took the necklace and held it out. "Can you help me?"

When Scott took the necklace she held up her hair, and twisted in her chair. Scott fastened the locket around her

neck, and Charlie reached up to run her fingers over it.

"I love it," she said.

"I'm glad."

"I didn't know that Katherine had jewelry of my mother's," Charlie said.

"Well, I'm glad that we found out about it, so you're able to have it."

The waitress came over to clear away their plates, and asked if they wanted dessert.

Scott looked at Charlie in question.

"Do you have blueberry pie?" Charlie asked the waitress.

"We do."

"I'll take a piece of that, please."

"And you, sir?" the waitress asked, turning to Scott.

"Peach, if you have it."

"We do. I'll be right back," she said, and bustled away.

While they waited, Scott was holding his new knife, looking it over.

"This is the very first present I've ever given you," Charlie said.

"Well, it's sure a good one."

Charlie thought for a few moments, and then said, "Why would Katherine give up the jewelry?"

Her question surprised Scott, she could see that. He turned his gaze to her, his forehead wrinkled.

To his credit, though, Scott didn't pretend to misunderstand what Charlie was getting at.

That being, why would Katherine do anything that was not to her own benefit in some way?

"Let's not think of that part of it, alright?" Scott told her. "Let's just be glad about you having it."

Charlie nodded, and when the girl returned with their desserts, she enjoyed her piece of pie immensely.

After that, instead of getting a horse cab back to the hotel, Scott suggested they walk.

"That way I can work off some of that pie," he told Charlie, patting his stomach in exaggeration.

Charlie was content with that suggestion, and they walked along the sidewalks, still filled with folks out for a

stroll in the evening.

Back at the hotel, and at the door of the hotel room, Charlie sighed. "I wish the day wasn't over," she said.

"We'll take another trip soon. To San Francisco, on the train, like I said," Scott said.

Charlie went to wash, and get into her nightgown, and came out of the washroom, going to stuff her dress and stockings

into her valise.

Scott had sat in one of the chairs, and had been reading a newspaper he had bought downstairs in the lobby. Charlie went to

sit, cross-legged on her bed. She'd taken the locket off again, and was holding it, running her fingers over the top.

When she opened it, she saw that there was no picture inside. It would have been nice, she thought, to have found a picture

of her father and mother. Katherine probably would have taken it out, Charlie thought, but didn't voice that aloud.

"I could put a picture in here, couldn't I?" she asked.

"You could."

Then in an abrupt switch of topic, Charlie said, "Some of those kids we saw are real poor."

Scott looked up. He said nothing for the moment, and Charlie went on.

"They don't have much of anything, some of them," she said.

"That's doesn't make stealing right, Charlie."

"I know."

Scott folded his newspaper, and laid it on the table beside the chair.

"Are you saying that's why they do it? Because they're poor?" he asked.

"Some of them."

"What does being poor have to do with breaking glass in store windows?' Scott asked her, quietly.

Charlie met his gaze, and Scott went on. "Being poor, that doesn't explain why so many of the shop

windows get broken. If it was only that, they'd take food, and that would be it. But they don't stop at that. Do they?"

It was a pointed question, and Charlie got his meaning, just as Scott had intended her to.

Charlie felt her face get warm. She felt chastened.

"No," she said, very quietly.

"Vandalism doesn't have anything to do with being hungry. And, you know that," Scott said. His tone was firm. Nearly stern.

Charlie wished she had kept still about those kids. She feared she had ruined the evening. She'd earned herself

a somewhat reprimand, and caused Scott to become stern. But, she was to be relieved, because, once he'd

spoken as he had, and given her a measured glance, Scott reverted to his previous good mood.

They read the newspaper together, with Scott pointing out various articles to her, and then they discussed them.

Then he continued to read, and Charlie, leaning against him in the large chair, felt sleepier and sleepier.

She went to sleep in her bed, with the lamp still turned up, and Scott reading the newspaper.

L

When the train pulled into the depot, and they'd collected their horses from the livery, they rode back to Lancer.

Charlie was still full of good feelings about the trip. Once at the ranch, Murdoch came out to greet them, looking pleased.

"It's good to see the two of you," he said.

"What's been happening around here?" Scott asked, as he dismounted.

Murdoch began filling Scott in on various things that were ranch-related, and then, when they were done unsaddling

their horses, Murdoch turned to look at Charlie.

"And how are you, young lady?" he asked, in greeting.

Charlie smiled at him, and Murdoch said, "If that smile is anything to go by, I'd say you must have had a fine time, hmm?"

"Yes, I did," Charlie said, and began telling Murdoch about the restaurant they'd eaten at, and showing him the locket

she was wearing.

Scott went to change to work clothes, and Charlie, with a half-day free from school yet, went to tell Teresa and

Maria about the recipe she wanted to try.

L

The recipe was pronounced a success, and delicious, by the family that evening at the supper meal.

Charlie, liking the attention and the accolades, still said, "It wasn't hard to make. Anybody could do it."

At that, Murdoch spoke from his end of the table. "When you're paid a compliment, for whatever reason, don't

take away from the joy of the person who gave it to you. No undermining yourself. Just say thank you and

leave it at that."

Feeling a trifle embarrassed, Charlie nodded in understanding. "Thank you," she said, instead, to the family around

the table.

Beets was coming the next day, and the house prepared for that. Though he was thought of as near-family by now,

there were still certain special touches put in place for him. His favorite dessert was planned. Fresh flowers to be put into

the guest room. Such as that.

Sitting about in the library after supper, Teresa said that they should take a box of groceries to Burl's shack

the next morning.

"When someone goes into town, to pick up Mr. Beets, that would be a good time to take Burl his groceries," Teresa

pointed out. "Combining a trip, and all."

"Sensible idea," Murdoch said, in approval.

It was Murdoch, and Teresa, and Charlie, as well, who made the trip to town the next morning.

The box for Burl was in the back of the wagon, and Charlie sat between Teresa and Murdoch on the wagon seat.

At the shack, their arrival set up the dogs to barking. After Murdoch had set the brake on the wagon, and

they'd gotten down, he carried the box to the front steps, as the dogs came from around the back, barking.

Teresa knocked on the door, and then knocked again, with no answer.

"'Round here!" Burl called, and Murdoch set the groceries on the porch, and the three of them walked around

the corner of the house.

Burl was at the outside of the old lean-to, as they walked up to him.

After they'd spoken hellos, Murdoch asked Burl what he was doing, gesturing a hand at the piles of blankets and things on

the ground.

"Need to find somethin' in here," Burl told him. "Been lookin' for the mornin' and haven't found it."

"What is it?" Teresa asked. "Maybe we can help."

"It's a book," Burl replied, and looked to Murdoch. "A book I thought to show ya."

"I see," Murdoch said.

Stepping on into the lean-to, Charlie was agape at the trunks against the walls. There were two on one side and one on the other

wall. They were fine trunks, too. Charlie had seen enough of Katherine's trunks to know what constituted 'fine', and these were

definitely in that caliber.

"Reckon it'd be in one of these here trunks," Burl was saying.

"We'll help," Teresa said, and Charlie added, "Yes!" She wanted to open those trunks and see inside. Her hands were fairly

itching to do so.

Burl gestured towards one trunk, and he opened one on the other side. Teresa unlatched the trunk Burl had gestured to, though with

some difficulty, and finally asked Murdoch to assist her.

"Haven't been open in a good many years," Burl said, as he crouched before the trunk he was in front of. "Likely rusted shut."

When Murdoch had helped, Teresa lifted the lid of the trunk, and Charlie heard Teresa's quick intake of breath.

"Oh, my," she said, in a near whisper.

In front of the girls, in the overflowing trunk, were bolts of material. All colors, vibrant blues and yellows, and all the hues

of red possible. The material was as soft as velvet, softer even, but Charlie wasn't certain just what it was.

Teresa was touching the fabric as if reverently.

"It's brocade," she said, still in a hushed tone.

"What's that?" Charlie asked.

"Silk," Teresa said, by way of explanation. "See the silver threads in it?"

There was fold upon fold of the material there.

"Murdoch, look," Teresa said, and Murdoch left Burl, and crossed the lean-to, to where the girls were kneeling in front of

the trunk.

Charlie saw, by Murdoch's raised eyebrows, that he, too, thought the material to be extraordinary.

"Let's look in this one," Charlie said, and opened the second trunk before Murdoch or Teresa could restrain her.

This latch was easier to open, and inside there were rolls of ribbon, of every color. There were, what Charlie thought was

more material, but when she lifted it slightly, she saw that it was a dress.

"Teresa," she said. "Look."

Teresa stood up and stepped over, lifting the dress from the trunk.

"Oh, my," she said, sounding breathless. Even Charlie, who didn't care particularly for fashions, realized that this dress was

something special, indeed.

"Maybe it belonged to his wife," Charlie whispered to Teresa.

Burl had closed the lid on the trunk he'd been looking thru, and got stiffly to his feet again, from his knees.

"Don't know where that book could have gotten to," he grumbled, and turned to see Teresa, holding the dress in front of

her.

For a moment, and only a moment, an expression seemed to come over Burl's face. One of remembrance, of a lightness. There

was nearly a smile on his face.

"It's been some time," he said, "Since I seen that dress."

"Who did it belong to?" Charlie asked.

"Charlie," Teresa said, in a reproving tone.

"I'm only just asking what you want to know," Charlie reminded her.

Burl came closer, and took a bit of the dress into his hand. "It belonged to a fine lady," he said. "The very finest."

And then, he seemed to lose interest, and patience both.

"Let's have a drink," he said to Murdoch, and turned to make his way out of the lean-to. Murdoch nodded to Teresa and Charlie.

"Girls, why don't you close up the trunks."

When he went as if to follow the old man, Teresa spoke up, "What about all this material, Murdoch-"

"Just close them up, Teresa," Murdoch said, and he went out after Burl.

Teresa and Charlie exchanged a glance, and then Teresa sighed, and began to refold the dress to put it back into the

second trunk.

"What's he doing with all of this?" Charlie asked.

"He's not doing anything with it," Teresa said. "Just storing it."

"I mean, how did he get it?" Charlie persisted. She had the sudden, terrible thought that possibly Burl had stolen

the material. "Did he steal it, do you think?"

"Not around here, he didn't," Teresa denied. "There's no material like this here."

"Is it worth a lot of money?" Charlie asked then.

"A fortune."

"A fortune?" Charlie echoed.

"Well, a massive amount of money, anyway," Teresa conceded.

She laid the refolded dress back on the top, and went to the first trunk, running her fingers over the material on top once last

time, before she closed the lid, and latched the trunk.

Charlie lifted the dress just slightly and kept poking thru the underneath.

"We didn't finish looking in this one," she said.

"Just leave it be."

"But, who knows what else he has in here?" Charlie persisted. "He could have rubies, or something-"

"Close it up, and let's go," Teresa said, standing there, and tapping her boot.

Charlie's hand closed around something further into the trunk, and she pushed aside ribbons to pull it out. When she did,

she caught her breath, and heard Teresa do the same.

It was a jewelry box, the most beautiful jewelry box that Charlie had ever seen. It was made of some sort of wood, Charlie

wasn't certain just what, and there were brass carrying handles.

"Jumping Jupiter," Charlie said, and began to open it.

"No, don't," Teresa said.

"Why?' Charlie demanded.

"Just put it away, and let's close the trunk," Teresa said.

Preparing to argue the point, and wear Teresa down, (she knew Teresa was just as curious as she was), Charlie began to

speak.

For such a large man, Murdoch proved to be very stealthy. He was there, beside them, before either Teresa or Charlie

heard him returning.

"Girls," he said, and both of them turned, startled.

"We're just coming," Teresa told him. "We got carried away."

"I see that," Murdoch said.

Ignoring the stern expression on his face, Charlie held up the jewelry box.

"Look, Murdoch," she said. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes. It's beautiful. Put it away," he said.

Charlie turned to obey, laying the box down gently in the trunk once again, amidst the ribbons. Teresa closed the

lid, and then managed the latch.

"Where did he get all of these things, do you think?' Charlie asked Murdoch.

"I don't know the answer to that."

And then, the three of them stood there, both Teresa and Charlie being subjected to Murdoch's stern demeanor.

"We came here to visit with Burl, did we not?" he prompted.

"Yes," Teresa said, sounding apologetic. "We did."

"He'd like us to share some of the cake that Maria sent along. Do you girls think that you can put your curiousity away

for a time, and do that?"

"Of course," Teresa said, and Charlie thought that she looked genuinely apologetic.

Murdoch turned his gaze to her, and said, "Charlie?"

"I'd like some cake," Charlie said, and knew very well that Murdoch would understand was she was saying. Or not saying. That cake was

welcome, but that she wasn't sure she could contain her curiousness over the unexpected contents of the trunks.

To say that Murdoch was not amused would have been the truth. He looked even more stormy.

"You can mind your manners, and enjoy your cake with the rest of us inside, or you can forego the cake and sit in the

wagon alone until we've finished. Which is it to be?" he asked.

"Come inside," Charlie said.

Murdoch gave her a pointed glance, clearly waiting.

"And mind my manners," Charlie added.

"Good," Murdoch said.

As she followed Teresa and Murdoch towards the shack, Charlie thought to herself, 'Murdoch, one; Me, zero.'

L


	56. Formidable

Maria's cake was delicious, and Charlie enjoyed her piece of it. Still, though, the 'cake break' would have been much

better, she thought, if the conversation could have centered on the trunk contents.

Murdoch and Burl, however, talked of other things. Charlie finished her cake and sat on the floor with the

dog that was expecting the pups. Any time at all, Burl said, when Charlie asked him when he thought the puppies would

be born.

"Will you be takin' one of the pups?" the old man asked Charlie.

"I hope so," Charlie said. "Scott hasn't talked to me about it yet."

For a brief few minutes, sitting there petting the mama dog, and listening to the two men talking, Charlie

considered slipping outside, and taking another peek into that trunk. She turned the thought over in her mind, and

even stood up, and went to the door, looking out.

It was so tempting. Charlie was having to wage a battle within herself. Just a quick look, she told herself. What harm

would that do? Suddenly, Teresa was there, behind her, and giving her a little pinch.

"Ow," Charlie said, rubbing at her arm. "Why did you do that?"

"I'm saving you from a mess of trouble, that's what," the older girl answered, low.

Murdoch was standing up and heading to the door, as well, and Teresa pulled Charlie out onto the porch.

"What do you mean?" Charlie demanded, her voice low, too.

"I know what you were thinking of doing," Teresa said.

Instead of denying it, Charlie said, in a whisper, "Well, don't you want to look some more?"

"Shush," Teresa told her, as Murdoch came out, followed by old Burl.

As they prepared to leave, Teresa said, "Enjoy the rest of your cake," to Burl.

"That I will," the old man said.

"Maybe we can come back soon," Charlie said.

"Likely as not I'll be right here." Burl said.

"When can we come back, Murdoch?" Charlie asked, looking up at Murdoch. She was intent on getting a definite

answer to a return visit.

"We'll see," Murdoch said, non-committedly.

"Maybe tomorrow afternoon, when we take Mr. Beets back for the stage to Stockton?" Charlie suggested.

"We'll see what tomorrow brings," Murdoch said.

"It would be the perfect time, though," Charlie persisted. "I still think-"

Murdoch paused, and looked down at Charlie. Look at her was all he did, but it was quite enough. Charlie felt

her knees wobble and she hushed.

After that, Murdoch and Teresa said their good days to Burl, and Murdoch put the wagon into motion again, heading

towards town.

It wasn't that far at all, from the shack to town. Teresa and Murdoch talked a bit, but Charlie kept still. She was thinking

about the look that Murdoch had given her, and hoping that he wasn't going to say any more about her persistence a bit earlier.

She had the feeling that Murdoch would consider it as having been arguing. So, she kept still, with her hands folded in her lap,

trying to appear still and well-behaved, so that he might forget about his irritation at her.

At the train depot, Murdoch set the brake on the wagon, and Murdoch got down, holding out a hand for Teresa. Ordinarily, Charlie

would have jumped out all on her own. She didn't need any helping descending from the wagon. Not really. But, she waited until

Murdoch offered a hand to her, as well. That went along with her plan to appear lady-like and demure, so he wouldn't feel the need

to scold her.

No such luck. The stage had a bit of time before it was due to arrive, and Teresa lamented how good a cold lemonade would taste.

"Let's go and have one," she suggested to Murdoch.

Murdoch agreed, and they set off up the wooden sidewalk towards the café. Once they were seated at a table near the window,

Teresa saw a friend and excused herself to go and speak to the other girl. Charlie sat there at the small table, with Murdoch.

The chairs were high, and her feet were off the floor, so she swung them back and forth a bit, as the waitress brought their cold

glasses of lemonade.

"I know that you'll be spending time with Beets, as you should," Murdoch said, speaking quietly. "I think, though, that there will

be something extra included in your time this evening, as well."

Charlie gave him a glance, quizzical at the onset, and then more resigned. "Sir?" she said, in half-question.

"The fact that you're addressing me as 'Sir', shows that you're fully aware of what I'm talking about," he said.

At that, Charlie went silent, only surveying him from across the small table, her hand wrapped around the cold glass in front of her.

"Arguing with me is never going to end in success for you," Murdoch said.

Charlie gave a small sigh. "I know."

"Extra chores or writing lines?" he asked her then.

Charlie gave him a truly puzzled look at that question. "You're giving me a choice in it?" she asked, surprised.

"I think so."

Charlie still felt off-balance at this, and nibbled at her lower lip, looking at the older man.

"What chores?" she asked.

"I'll have to think about that," he said.

"How many lines would I have to write?" Charlie asked then.

"Hmm," Murdoch said, looking considering. "Well, I think fifty would be fair."

"Fifty?" Charlie asked, her voice sounding squeaky.

"Fifty."

Charlie met the eyes of the man across from her. He didn't look particularly angry. Just-well, just formidable.

She thought that fifty lines was quite a lot. More than Scott had ever made her do. It would be unwise to say that

to Murdoch, though. It would take her a long time to write that many lines. Maybe the extra chores would be preferable.

Still...depending on what the chores were, they might take just as long, and be just as tiresome as sitting on a hard chair

writing until her hand ached.

But, at least if she did the chores, she would be outdoors in the sunshine, most likely.

"I'll do the extra chores," she said, in decision.

"Alright. I'll think over it on the ride home, and let you know then what you need to do."

"Okay," Charlie said, reluctantly. She gave him a look, and nibbled at her lip again.

"I'm sorry for arguing, Murdoch," she said.

"I appreciate the apology."

Teresa was just coming back to join them at the table then, and sat in her chair just in time to hear Charlie say,

"It's so mysterious, though. All the things in Burl's trunks, I mean."

"It is mysterious," Teresa said, in agreement.

"Some things are better left to mystery," Murdoch said, and Charlie and Teresa exchanged a regretful look between them.

L

The stage arrived, and a weary-appearing Mr. Beets stepped down from it, shaking Murdoch's hand, and speaking to

Teresa and to Charlie.

The conversation back to the ranch was mostly between Murdoch and Beets. Charlie kept still. At Lancer, Johnny came from

the barn to give his greeting to Mr. Beets. Charlie hopped down from the wagon without waiting for assistance.

Lunch was to be ready very shortly, and Charlie headed towards the kitchen to wash her hands. As the others went into

the house ahead of them, Murdoch took Charlie aside, and told her that after the supper meal, it would be her job to

wash the dishes. Herself, only, with no one else's help. Knowing that Teresa had invited her suitor to join them as well, and one of

Murdoch's friends on a neighboring ranch was to be included, Charlie rapidly calculated in her head. Eight people! And all the dishes that went along with that!

"I'll let Maria know, so that she can go home a bit earlier," Murdoch was saying.

"That will take me all evening!" The protest escaped before Charlie could prevent it. She'd thought she would be assigned an extra chore outside, not be

stuck in the kitchen.

"A good reminder then," Murdoch said, not sounding at all sympathetic.

L


	57. Daunting

During lunch Charlie was quieter than was usual, but found even the dread of all those masses of dishes later was not a deterrent to

her appetite. She ate two pieces of roast beef, and two biscuits, smothered in pear jelly. Mr. Beets had already changed to

his casual clothes, the sort that he wore when at Lancer. Gone were the suit and bow tie, replaced by denim work pants and a button-up

shirt. He looked, Charlie thought, like a gentleman rancher.

Charlie would have liked it if Teresa had brought up all those beautiful bolts of material that they'd seen in Burl's

trunks. But, Teresa didn't bring it up, and so Charlie didn't either. She would, she thought tell Scott about it later on.

Once lunch was finished, Beets suggested a walk, or a ride, with Charlie, and so, they set off together, across the fields. Armed

with a canteen of water, and Beets' book on flowers and plants.

Beets patted the knapsack he carried over one shoulder. "Maria took care to send some cookies with us, in the event we

needed sustenance."

He sounded extremely pleased, and Charlie smiled a little. She had observed over the past few months that Mr. Beets

had a real fondness for sweets.

"You like Maria's cookies, don't you?" she asked him.

"I do enjoy the cookies," Beets confirmed. "And the pies, and the cakes..." He smiled at Charlie.

"Johnny has a real sweet tooth, too," Charlie shared.

"I've noticed that."

After that, the two of them worked on identifying several plants. It was mid-afternoon, and they'd enjoyed a snack break of

cold water and Maria's oatmeal-raisin cookies, sitting on a fallen log.

He asked Charlie how she'd enjoyed the rest of her overnight trip with Scott when they'd come to Stockton. Charlie told him about

where they'd had supper, and the gifts that she and Scott had exchanged.

"I guess you know about the locket," Charlie said, reaching up to touch the locket around her neck. "Since you were the one

that Katherine brought the jewelry to."

"Yes, I knew about it. Did you see the rings as well?" he asked.

"Scott showed them to me, but he put them away. He said he'll keep them for me. He thinks I'm too young to have

them right now."

Beets nodded, looking as though he approved. "That sounds sensible."

"Katherine never said anything to me about having any of my mother's jewelry," Charlie said.

"It seems as though there were many things that Katherine never discussed with you," Mr. Beets said.

Charlie wondered at that. It was true enough. She wondered if there was something more to it than that.

She studied Mr. Beets, as he began to gather up their things, to prepare to walk back.

"Is there more? Jewelry of my mother's, I mean?" she asked.

"I think that there might be. I'll speak to Katherine about it."

They began to walk again then, turning back in the direction of the house.

"Do you have children?" Charlie asked, realizing that she really didn't know much about Mr. Beets.

"No, I don't."

His tone had sounded sort of sad to Charlie, and she wondered if she shouldn't have asked.

When he went on talking, though, she thought it must be alright.

"My wife and I had hoped for children, but I feel fortunate to have had a wonderful life with her. She passed away nine

years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Charlie said, and she was. "It must be lonely." It made her sad, to think of Mr. Beets, sitting alone in

his house at night, with no family.

"It does get lonely at times," he verified. Then he gave Charlie a smile. "I have some dear friends, that I enjoy spending time

with. That helps with the loneliness."

"You mean Murdoch, don't you?" Charlie asked, feeling pleased.

"Murdoch. Scott. You and Johnny and Teresa. All of you."

"I'm awfully glad," Charlie said. Then, without really thinking it out, she added, "I was lonesome, too, before I came here

to live."

"I'm sorry for that, Charlotte," Beets told her. "I believe that I was remiss in my duties where you were concerned. I should

have spoken more in-depth with you during the times that you came into the bank with Katherine."

"Scott says it was partly my responsibility," Charlie told the older man. "He says I could have spoken up to you, and talked

to you about how I was feeling."

Beets nodded. "Well, I'm pleased that we're able to talk with one another much better now."

"Yes," Charlie agreed. "Except-well, it really wouldn't have done any good to have said that I was lonely, or didn't like

living with Katherine. I mean, it wasn't as though I had anywhere else to go. Or anyone else that wanted me."

The expression on Beets face spoke of his sadness at her comment. "Ah, Charlotte," was all he said.

"It's alright, Mr. Beets," Charlie told him. "Things are different now."

L

Maria outdid herself with the supper meal preparations. There were chicken and dumplings, plates of vegetables and

fruits, cheeses, and two different types of pies and a cake.

Charlie ate her fill, listening to the various conversations going on around her at the table. Teresa seemed almost

starry-eyed when she looked at her beau, Don. The neighbor that had been invited was an older man, called Whittiker. He was a loud-voiced

man, who seemed to carry much of the conversation.

When they all rose to their feet, preparing to head towards the library for coffee and brandy, Charlie surveyed the dishes on

the table. She began to clear the table, making trip after trip to the kitchen carrying plates, glasses, silverware, platters. She put the

water to boiling, to fill the sink.

She put away the food that was left, though, with that many folks having eaten, it wasn't much at all.

Then she began scraping the plates, and by the time the water was hot, she finally was able to begin with the washing up.

It seemed every time she thought she was making progress, even a bit, she would turn and there would be

more dishes that she hadn't seen. When she'd worked her way thru the glasses, the cups, the silverware, then she had to stop and

dry them. She'd run out of room in the dish rack. By then the water was getting cooler, so more had to be put on to boil.

While she was doing that, Charlie realized that she would have all the pots and pans to wash, as well. She'd been determined not

to be daunted, but it was difficult not to be.

Teresa came into the kitchen then, to put cups and the coffee pot onto a tray to take to the library.

"How's it going?" Teresa asked, fluttering around the kitchen.

"That's a useless sort of a question," Charlie said.

"I'm sorry," Teresa said, looking around at all the dishes still to be done. "It was a silly question, wasn't it?"

Charlie shrugged, and began to pour hot water into the sink again.

"It's a hard job to do alone," Teresa said, sounding sympathetic.

Then, preparing to take the tray, she said, "I tried to get you to ease off from testing Murdoch the way you were doing-"

"I don't need you to say 'I told you so'," Charlie said crossly.

"When are you going to learn?" Teresa talked on. "He can't be pushed and challenged like you were doing today-"

"I understand that!" Charlie said, raising her voice, and setting the tea kettle down with a slam. "If I didn't before, I

sure do now!"

At Charlie's outburst, Teresa's face softened. "You'll get thru it alright," she said, in encouragement.

"By tomorrow morning, maybe," Charlie said, glumly.

"Not that long," Teresa said, smiling. As she took the loaded tray to go back out of the kitchen, she said, "I'll make sure

to save you a piece of pie or cake. Alright?"

"Alright," Charlie said, and, left alone in the large, silent kitchen once again, Charlie began on the plates. She

began to feel sorry for herself. Murdoch didn't need to have been so severe, she thought. Charlie was muttering to

herself when she heard someone coming into the kitchen.

When she turned to look, she saw that it was Scott. He was carrying the tray, with the coffee pot and empty cups on it.

He came in without saying anything at first, going to set the coffee pot on the stove. Then he brought the platter of cups

over to set it on the kitchen counter.

"How're you doing?" he asked. He asked it quietly, and his voice was kind.

"Just trying to get them all done," Charlie said.

"Mmm," Scott said.

Charlie risked a closer look upwards at him. "Are you going to punish me, too?" she asked, and then wondered why on

earth she'd asked that at all.

Scott shook his head. "No," he said. "I think Murdoch took care of it fine enough."

At Charlie's relieved nod, Scott reached out to tip her chin up. "Lesson learned about arguing with an adult?"

"Yes," Charlie said.

"Alright," he said. He tapped the end of her nose lightly.

After Scott had gone, to return to the library to join the others, Charlie worked on, grimly determined. She could hear voices from the

front hall, and then the door closing. Someone must be leaving for their home already. The neighbor, or Teresa's beau.

That's how long she'd been stuck here in the kitchen. Working away.

Charlie was ready for the pots and skillets. She sighed, thinking she would have to stop once again, to dry the dishes that

were overflowing in the dish rack before she could continue.

The sound of a heavier foot came into the kitchen, and Charlie pushed her hair from her face with a soap-covered hand.

It was Murdoch. A cup in his hand. He went to the stove and poured coffee from the pot into the cup.

And then, to Charlie's surprise, he came over, set the cup down again, and took up the drying towel, and began to dry plates.

Surprised, actually shocked, Charlie watched him, drying one plate, and then another.

Meeting Murdoch's gaze, she gave him a slight smile, and he smiled in return. A shared smile of understanding, of

affection.

Charlie returned to scrubbing the skillets, her heart suddenly lighter.

L

It was at breakfast the next morning that the subject of the contents of Burl's trunks could finally be discussed. With just the

family, and Beets around the breakfast table. It began by Scott asking about how Burl had been faring the previous day.

Teresa wasted no time, (which Charlie was glad about), in informing Scott and Johnny and Beets about the vast amounts

of expensive materials in the trunks.

"You should see it," Teresa was saying, with enthusiasm. "Brocade, masses of it."

Johnny reacted in a manner similar to that of what Charlie had expressed the day before. "What's that? Brocade?"

Teresa explained it swiftly, and Johnny asked, "What's he doin' with all of that, in trunks that way?"

"We don't know," Teresa said. "He was looking for something-a book, I think, and then he got sidetracked."

"The girls didn't get an opportunity to question Burl like they wanted to," Murdoch said, but he said it lightly, with a

slight smile, and Charlie could tell he wasn't really irritated.

"Teresa says it's all worth a lot of money," Charlie contributed to the conversation.

"The way he lives, and he's got somethin' worth money like that?" Johnny said, sounding incredulous.

"Exactly," Teresa said, in agreement.

"Maybe he has a good reason for keeping it," Scott suggested mildly.

"What reason could he have?" Teresa protested, and Charlie leaned forward in her chair, eager to hear what Scott might

say.

"I don't know," Scott said, still looking slightly amused. "Maybe he keeps it there so he can rev up the curiosity of nosy

girls."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Murdoch added, teasingly.

"I'm just thinking, with the way he doesn't always have much food to eat, and the way he dresses-" Teresa began, "Well, he

could sell just a little of that brocade, and be able to live decently for a change."

"You'd have him wearin' a suit every day?" Johnny asked, grinning at Teresa.

Before Teresa could express her obvious irritation at Johnny, Murdoch spoke out.

"You do have somewhat a point, my darling," Murdoch said to Teresa. "It is rather a curious thing."

"Remember when we saw those strips of material on his table that time?" Charlie asked, to the table in general, and

then, to Johnny, she added, "The day he got hit with the rock by Monte and John? And I went to get something to put on his

head? Remember?"

"I remember," Johnny said.

To the rest of the family, and to Beets, Charlie said, "There were these pieces of material, where he'd been cutting them up, and Johnny

used one of them in cold water for Burl to hold on his head."

"Was it brocade?" Teresa asked Charlie.

Charlie thought back to that day. She been hurrying to find something to give to Johnny, and didn't remember what the strips

had looked like, or felt like, really.

"I don't know. I just remember it was all really colorful. Blues and yellows," Charlie said. "They were spread out on the table,

like he'd been making something."

"He's an interesting old fella," Johnny said.

For a few seconds there was quiet, as if each family member was reflecting on Johnny's statement, and Burl's interesting

nature.

"He sounds as though he could tell a good tale," Beets said.

L


	58. Purple flowers and jellybeans

Teresa went to church the next morning, but the rest of the family took a respite from church services. Scott and Murdoch

and Beets had stayed up late the evening before, talking, and Murdoch and Beets playing chess.

Charlie had been allowed to stay up past her usual eight o'clock bedtime, and she wished she could have some

of the coffee that Maria was preparing.

Teresa was encouraging Charlie to ride along to church with her.

"It's a nice morning," the older girl persuaded. "I'll even let you drive the buggy."

Charlie considered. She was already dressed in overalls and a faded brown blouse. She would have to change to a dress.

"Could we take some things to Burl?" she asked Teresa.

"We just took some things to him yesterday," Teresa reminded.

"I know. But we could take something more. Some of those cookies that Maria made-or a loaf of bread."

"You just want another look into those trunks of his," Teresa said.

"Well, I'd at least like to ask him about all those things," Charlie admitted.

"I have to admit, I'm curious, too," Teresa said.

"I'll go wrap up some of the cookies," Charlie said, eagerly.

"Just a minute," Teresa said, reaching out to take hold of Charlie's arm. "You have to change to a dress first."

"Alright, I will-"

"And, I'll go and talk to Murdoch," Teresa said.

"I'll bet he says no," Charlie said.

"He might not," Teresa said. "Are they still in the library?"

"Yes. Talking, and drinking coffee," Charlie said.

"Well, come on with me, and we'll see if it's alright with him and Scott."

When they reached the library, they went in, where Beets, Scott and Murdoch were all sitting, looking comfortable.

"Here's our girls," Murdoch said, in greeting, sounding expansive.

Teresa went to stand near his chair, running her hand over Murdoch's shoulder. Charlie went to sit on the settee

beside Mr. Beets.

"Leaving for church soon?" Murdoch asked Teresa.

"Yes, in a few minutes. Charlie says she might go with me."

"Well, that's fine," Murdoch said, looking pleased.

"Once you change, right, kiddo?" Scott asked Charlie, smiling a little.

Charlie nodded.

"We thought we might take some bread by to Burl," Teresa said. "Would that be alright with you?"

Immediately, Murdoch became more serious, and looked to Scott.

"Well, I don't know," he began.

"You were just there yesterday," Scott said.

"Maria made cookies," Charlie said, finding it too difficult to not contribute to the conversation. "I know he'd like some of

those."

"And, that's the reason you want to go there?" Murdoch queried, raising an eyebrow. "To take him some of Maria's cookies?"

"Well, and to check on him, of course," Teresa said, smiling at Murdoch.

"Of course," Murdoch said, and Charlie knew he wasn't fooled at all.

"I don't know as you two should go out there by yourself-" Murdoch began.

Charlie sat up very straight and had to bite her lip to keep from arguing outright with that comment. She wasn't eager to have

another round of solo dish-washing or something worse for arguing. She liked to think she'd learned her lesson.

"Burl's harmless, don't you think?" Teresa asked.

"I suppose he is at that," Murdoch said. "Still, he's unpredictable." Murdoch looked to Scott. "What do you say, Scott?"

"Why don't you wait until this afternoon?" Scott suggested. "I'll go along with you both when we take Beets into the train."

That wasn't what Charlie wanted. She wanted to go _now._

Teresa only lifted her shoulders in a light shrug, and said, "Alright. That's fine with me."

Of course it was. She didn't _care_ the way that Charlie did. These were the mutinous thoughts that Charlie was having.

After that, the three men began talking about going outside, to take a look at the new calves, and various other things.

At the foot of the stairs, Teresa urged Charlie upstairs.

"Go and change," she said.

"I don't think I'll go now," Charlie told her.

"Why?"

Charlie shrugged in reply, and Teresa looked disapproving. "You should want to go to church, Charlie."

"I don't see why we can't go to Burl's," Charlie said, in answer.

"We will. Later today."

"I don't see why we can't go by ourselves."

"Oh, Charlie," Teresa said, in dismissal, turning to head up the stairs.

"Well, I don't see why we have to wait for Scott, or Murdoch, or anybody to go with us!" Charlie went on.

"Is that arguing that I hear?" came a deep voice, and Charlie turned swiftly to see Murdoch standing there.

"We were just talking-" Teresa began to speak up in defense of Charlie. A fact which Charlie appreciated, but also a fact

that did no good.

"You go on, and gather up your things for church," Murdoch told Teresa, and Teresa went, with a sympathetic look at

Charlie.

Charlie. Who stood where she was, on knees that were trembly.

Murdoch walked the few feet over to where Charlie stood, and reached down, taking her chin in one of his large hands,

and tipping it up.

"I thought we had an understanding," Murdoch said, in a terrible voice.

"We do!" Charlie said.

"With what I overheard, it seems not," he said.

Murdoch took his hand from her chin. "Go on along to the library," he said.

Charlie wondered at that. She didn't want to meet him in the library. "Teresa wants me to go to church-" she began.

"And I heard you refuse," Murdoch reminded. "Go to the library. I'll be there in a few minutes."

There was the sound of voices and Beets and Scott appeared.

"What's this?" Scott asked. It was evident that something was, indeed, going on.

"I'll meet you outside, Murdoch," Beets said, plainly sensing the tension. And, to his credit, Beets turned and went back

towards the door.

There was silence, then. Murdoch was quiet, waiting for Charlie to explain to Scott.

"Charlie?" Scott prompted, when Charlie was silent.

"Murdoch said for me to go to the library-and wait for him."

"Well, then, you need to do that," Scott said, quietly.

Charlie gave Scott an upturned look, pleading. But, she went.

She went to sit in the over-sized chair in Murdoch's library, curling her legs up underneath of her. She had worried

herself in a tizzy.

The sound of boot steps had her sitting up very straight.

At the sight of Scott, Charlie felt relieved. Not Murdoch. Scott.

Scott came in, and then turned to close the library door. He walked over and sat in the chair opposite where Charlie

sat.

"I'm having trouble understanding, Charlie," Scott said. He sounded, not so much angry, as he did sad. That sad tone

made Charlie feel sad herself. "Do you think the rules are so difficult to follow around here?"

Charlie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.

"It's being disrespectful, arguing," he said. "Even if you do it behind our backs, it's still arguing. And, it's still

disrespectful."

"I'll apologize to Murdoch," Charlie said, earnestly.

"I imagine that he would appreciate that. He'd appreciate it more if you really meant it."

"What do you mean, Scott?" Charlie asked, tearfully.

"To someone like Murdoch, someone who's honest himself, and expects the same from others, then an apology doesn't count

for much if it's followed by the same behavior again."

Charlie bit at her lip, her forehead wrinkled.

"We've tried patience, with your arguing. We've tried giving you consequences. It doesn't seem to be helping," Scott said.

"I'll do better!" Charlie said.

Scott surveyed her seriously for a long few moments, looking as though he were considering.

Then he sat back in the chair a bit, and said, "Come here."

Charlie stood up and walked over to him. "The back-talking has got to stop, Charlie," Scott said, sounding stern. "When we say something, we mean it. It

doesn't mean that you can negotiate or argue us into having your own way. Do you understand?"

Charlie nodded, feeling miserable.

"I'm going to let you off today with a talking-to, and-" he hesitated, "Twenty-five lines. Got it?"

"What should the lines say?" Charlie asked.

"How about, 'I will listen and obey without argument'," Scott said.

"Okay," Charlie said, subdued.

"Alright," Scott said, standing up. "If I were you, I'd think about talking with Murdoch sometime today."

Although the thought of it make Charlie feel all 'quakey' inside, she knew he was right.

L

Charlie got a glass of lemonade, and went to sit at Murdoch's big desk. She wrote her twenty-five lines, and left them

there, to give to Scott later. She sat there a bit longer, leaning back in the big chair, pondering.

She would, she thought, write something to Murdoch. She spent the next hour, trimming paper into a star-like design, and

then wrote out her feelings of remorse on the paper.

Thinking of the jellybeans she had hidden in her bedroom, Charlie went upstairs to retrieve them. She arranged them in a heart

pattern over the note, and left it there, in the center of the desk, knowing that he would see it. Murdoch did love jellybeans.

L

After that, there was only a small time until lunch. It was fried chicken, and corn on the cob, and Maria's blueberry pie. Beets sat back

in his chair at the table, and patted his stomach.

"There's no chefs in France that could out-cook Maria," Beets praised.

Maria had gone home to enjoy the Sunday afternoon with her own family, so Charlie and Teresa cleared the table. Beets asked Charlie to

go for a walk before he left for the stagecoach.

Charlie found some purple flowers and gathered a bunch, thinking she would put them in a vase on Murdoch's desk. During the lunch meal, Charlie

had not let her gaze travel to Murdoch. She was still feeling worried about what he might say to her.

She had only time to do the flower arranging before it was time for Beets to be driven to town. The note and jellybeans were in the

same spot on the desk, and Charlie didn't think that Murdoch had seen them yet.

When Beets was ready to depart, it was Scott who drove him, and Teresa rode along, with cookies wrapped for Burl.

"Aren't you coming?" Teresa asked Charlie, as she began climbing into the buggy.

Charlie swung a glance at Scott, and then at Murdoch. "I think I'll stay home," she said.

Teresa looked perplexed, but said, "Alright."

"Would you tell Burl I said hello?" Charlie asked her.

Feeling a bit adrift as the buggy went down the road, Charlie stood there with just Murdoch for a few moments.

"Well, I've some reading to do," Murdoch said, and gave Charlie a glance. He didn't seem angry.

"Don't go far without letting me know," he said, then.

Charlie nodded in agreement, and watched as Murdoch turned to go into the house.

After cuddling with the kittens in the barn for a bit, Charlie stood up, dusting the dirt from the barn floor off of

her overalls.

She went into the kitchen, and washed her hands. She touched the coffee pot. It was still warm, and she took down

a cup and poured coffee.

Charlie walked slowly towards the library, partly to keep the coffee from sloshing out of the cup, and partly because

she felt nervous.

The door to the library was open, and Charlie paused in the doorway, hesitant.

Any other time, she would have gone straight in, sure of her welcome. But today, it felt different. And, she hated it.

"Murdoch?" she asked, gathering her courage.

Murdoch looked up from the book he was reading, sitting in the chair behind the desk.

"Is it alright, if I come in?" Charlie asked.

"Of course it's alright."

Charlie came over to the desk, and set the cup of coffee down carefully. "I brought you this."

"Well, thank you," Murdoch said. "A cup of coffee will be welcome right now."

Charlie stood there, it was only a moment or so, though to her it seemed longer.

"It was a very nice note that you wrote me," Murdoch said, then.

Charlie forced herself to meet his eyes.

"I wanted to-tell you how I feel about you," she said, hesitantly. "And that I know I was wrong."

"I appreciate it very much." He smiled a bit. "And I enjoyed the jellybeans immensely."

It was as though a dam broke then.

"I'm very sorry, Murdoch!" Charlie said, in a burst of words. "I really am so sorry!"

Murdoch's smile disappeared, though his gaze was still kindly.

"I know you are."

"I won't be disrespectful, or back-talk you anymore!"

Murdoch reached out to put a hand on Charlie's waist, and pulled her over closer to him.

"Alright, Charlie," he said. That was all he said. But, it was enough.

L


	59. Cross bat

Scott and Teresa came home from taking Beets to the stage, with the news that Burl had not seemed well. As the

family sat down to a simple supper of cold roast beef sandwiches and tomatoes, Teresa expressed concern.

"He's not well, I don't think," Teresa began by saying.

"What's the trouble?" Murdoch asked.

"I'm not sure," Teresa said, as she passed the platter of tomatoes to Johnny. "He seemed ill, though, didn't he, Scott?"

"He seemed to feel poorly," Scott said. "Though he denied it."

"I don't think he eats well," Teresa went on.

"Is he not eating the groceries we've been taking?" Murdoch asked.

"I don't know," Teresa said. "There doesn't seem to be any food lying around, so perhaps he is. He just seems-poorly."

Charlie chewed her sandwich, feeling concerned.

"Well, I'll stop around tomorrow and check on him," Murdoch said.

"Could I go with you?" Charlie spoke up.

"What about school?" Murdoch asked her, from his end of the table.

"It's a half-day tomorrow," Charlie said. "We're done by noon."

That brought questions from Murdoch and Johnny about why there was only a half-day, and while Scott was explaining,

Charlie finished her milk. The conversation never returned to Murdoch's planned visit to Burl's place.

After she'd helped Teresa clear the table, water was put on the stove to heat for Charlie's bath.

What with having her bath, and finishing her handwriting for school, there wasn't time to talk to Murdoch again until

bedtime. When she was in her nightgown, and waiting in her bedroom, for Scott to come up to read with her, she stood at

her doorway, hoping that Murdoch would come upstairs.

She was still standing there, waiting, when Scott came up the stairs, carrying the copy of 'Little Men'.

"What are you doing out here in the hall?" he asked Charlie.

"Hoping Murdoch would come up."

"Why?" Scott asked, ushering Charlie into her room.

"I wanted to ask him again if I could go to Burl's with him tomorrow."

"I think he said he plans to go in the morning," Scott said.

"Oh," Charlie said, disappointed.

"You'll be able to visit Burl another day."

"Okay," Charlie said.

After they'd read a half a chapter of the book, Scott laid it outside. "Ready for sleep?" he asked Charlie.

"I guess," Charlie said, but she didn't move, from her spot next to him on the bed, or raise her head from his shoulder.

"Everybody likes Burl, don't they?" she asked. "I mean everybody here, in the family."

"Yes, we all like him," Scott said.

"I'm glad. Now he won't have to be so alone anymore."

L

School was released promptly at noon the next day. Rebecca and Jason walked part of the way with Charlie, to the

center of town, where they parted ways. Charlie considered going into the mercantile, to buy jelly beans. Not having brought

any of her allowance to school, though, that wasn't a possibility.

Darn it. Charlie thought she could almost taste those jelly beans.

Passing the alleyway near the café, she thought she saw a familiar bent-over figure. She headed that way, and

found Burl, sitting on a broken bench behind the café.

"Hello, Burl," she greeted him.

The old man didn't raise his head.

"Burl-" Charlie said, again, and took a couple steps closer. "Are you alright?"

"Do I know ya?" he asked, raising his gaze to Charlie. His eyes were reddened.

"Yeah. It's Charlie. Remember?" she asked, confused.

"Hot out," Burl said.

Charlie thought he looked ill. "Do you want a drink of water?" she asked.

Burl hung his head again, and didn't answer.

Charlie looked around, thinking. She left her school books there, beside the bench, and went to the front of the café. She went

inside. Since it was the noon hour, it was crowded. Charlie worked her way thru the crowd, and went to where she saw

Alice, the owner.

"Excuse me," Charlie said.

Alice was calling across the room to someone, carrying a plate in both hands.

"Excuse me," Charlie said, again, louder this time.

Alice turned to look at Charlie. "Yes?" she said, in a harried sort of way.

"Could I have a cup of water?"

"What?"

"Could I have a cup of water? Please?"

Alice set the plates down on a nearby table. "There's your orders, folks," she said, to the two men at the table.

Walking past Charlie again, she gave her another quick glance.

"I'm a mite busy here, girl," she said. "As you can see."

"Yes, ma'm, if I could just have a cup of water?"

Near the doors leading to the kitchen, Alice paused her walking.

"You're that gal stayin' at the Lancers, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"And you want a cup of water, is that it?"

Charlie nodded. "Please."

Alice pushed her way into the kitchen, and Charlie stayed where she was. A few moments later, Alice returned, with a

tin cup of water.

"Here," she said.

"Thank you," Charlie said. "I'll bring the cup back in just a few minutes."

"What's this? Where are you going with my cup?"

"Out back."

"Drink it here," Alice commanded. "No need to be walking around back with it."

"I'm taking it to someone-I'll bring it right back to you. I promise."

"What-" Alice began, and then her attention was caught by another customer, motioning to her.

Charlie took advantage of that, and went swiftly thru the front doors, and around thru the alley again.

Burl was still sitting there, and Charlie sat down on the bench beside him.

"I brought you some water," she told Burl.

"What?" Burl asked, looking confused.

Charlie wasn't certain what was wrong. She only knew that something was.

"Here," she said, trying to press the cup into Burl's hand.

She saw that his hand was shaking, and she held her own hand over the cup to help him steady it.

"Cold," Burl said, after he'd taken a few sips.

He looked as though he was very sweaty, and Charlie wished she had a cloth to dip into the remaining cold water.

"Do you have a handkerchief?" she asked the old man.

He shook his head, and Charlie settled for dipping her fingers into the cool water and touching his forehead and cheeks

lightly.

"Did Murdoch come to see you today?" she asked Burl.

"Do I know him?" Burl asked, and Charlie was suddenly frightened.

"Yes. You know him," she said, thinking, and wondering what she should do. Burl wasn't in any state to walk home, in

the heat. She bit at her lip, considering. She could go and fetch Gurth, and lead the horse, with Burl riding, out to the shack.

That was, if he would get on the horse's back. She was of no size to get him mounted.

But, then, she would be very late, getting home. Everybody would be worried. Well, maybe not Scott, or Murdoch, but

Teresa would know she was late. And if too much time went by, she would go and find Scott to tell him, and Scott would come

hunting for her, thinking that something was wrong.

She could go to the jail. Mr. Val would be able to help. She felt better just thinking about it.

"What's this?" came a shrill female voice, from the back steps of the café. Alice stood there, mopping at her

face with her lifted apron. "What are you doing back here?"

"Just resting," Charlie said, and stood up, bringing the tin cup over to the woman. "Thank you for the water."

"What's _he_ doing here?" Alice asked then, sounding disapproving. "Best not be going thru my bins again!"

"He wasn't," Charlie said, defensively.

"That's what he's always doing-making a nuisance of himself-"

"He's not. He was just resting," Charlie said, with spirit.

"That's a new word for it," the woman said. "The water for him, was it?"

"Yes."

"I don't have use for folks who are looking for a handout-" Alice continued.

"He's not wanting a handout," Charlie said, interrupting. "And it's not as though the water cost you anything."

For a long few moments, the café owner was silent, looking startled by Charlie's spirited words.

"I don't appreciate sass from young ones," Alice said, now. "I don't think Murdoch Lancer would like to hear

that a young'un visiting in his home was talking to her elders in that way, miss."

Charlie couldn't bring herself to apologize. She wasn't sorry for speaking up that way. Still-

"I wasn't intending to be sassy," she said. There. That was as close to an apology as the cross bat was going to get.

Alice was glaring at her, and Charlie went over to pick up her school books, shifting them onto one arm. Then, she

told hold of Burl's arm. "Come on," she told the old man, and when he made no move to rise, she tugged on his arm, a bit.

"Burl. Come on with me."

Burl raised his head. "Oh, it's you, gal," he said, in apparent recognition of Charlie.

"Yes. It's me," Charlie said, and tugged at his arm again. "Let's go."

Burl rose, then nearly fell back, seeming unsteady. When he seemed to have found steadier feet, Charlie began walking

beside him, still holding onto his arm.

"I don't want that old reprobate around here," Alice said. "Likely as not, he's drunk."

For one moment, one very pleasurable moment, Charlie imagined herself turning back and letting fly with some of

the language of the kid-gang in Stockton. That would rattle the old bat's nerves, Charlie thought with satisfaction.

In her mind, though, she saw Scott's face, and thought of the things he was always telling her, about

discretion with her words, and kindly speaking. He would not be pleased if she hurled those obscenities at Alice.

Probably, that would even be one of those rare times that Scott spanked, instead of talked, or reasoned.

Nope. Not worth the risk. No matter how satisfying it would be in the moment.

Charlie led Burl out onto the sidewalk, and they made their way, extremely slowly towards the jail office.

It seemed to take forever to get there. Burl wasn't steady on his feet. Several times he stopped walking totally, and

Charlie had to coax him into continuing.

"Where are we goin'?" he asked, at one point.

"To see a friend," Charlie settled for saying. She couldn't tell if he was thinking clearly or not, since he was silent,

other than some mutterings under his breath. As if to himself.

Finally, they were at the door of the jail. Charlie felt as though she'd run to town and back to Lancer again.

When she went inside, it seemed cooler in the jail office. She closed the door behind her, and looked around for Val.

She heard an off-key whistling from the back, where the cells were at.

She eased Burl into one of the chairs, and went back to where Val was standing on a cot in one of the cells,

swiping at spider webs in the corners of the ceiling with a broom.

"Well, hello there, Just Charlotte," Val greeted her, with a smile. "It's past time you came to visit me. School's out

early today, huh?"

Charlie nodded. "I was wondering if you could help me with something." She was still breathless from pulling Burl along

the sidewalks.

"I imagine I might be able to help. What is it?" Val asked, still swiping with the broom.

"It's Burl," Charlie said.

"Burl? You mean the old fellow at the edge of town?"

"Yes. He was sitting behind the café, and when I found him, he acted like he was sick, or something. I went to get him

a drink, but he's sweating something awful, and he's having trouble walking-I would have taken him home on my horse, but

I didn't know if he could mount up by himself or not-"

Val had paused, to listen to Charlie's monologue, lowering the broom in his hand. He stepped down off the cot, and

came over to her. "Take a breath there, sweetheart."

"I think he's sick, though!"

"Alright, well, where is he now?"

"Sitting out there," Charlie said, pointing to the office.

"In the office?"

Charlie nodded, and Val began walking that way. At the sight of the old man, sitting just where Charlie had placed him,

Val handed Charlie the broom he was carrying. "Put that away for me."

Charlie took the broom, and went hastily to open the small closet and stand it inside.

Val had bent down and was attempting to talk to Burl. Shaking his shoulder lightly.

"Hey there, old timer. You feeling poorly today?" Val asked.

"I've felt better at times," Burl said, sounding more like himself.

"Have you, now? Well, what's the problem?" Val asked.

Burl only shook his head, and leaned back in the chair.

"Let's try some more water," Val said, nodding to Charlie, and Charlie scurried to fill a cup from the pail of cold water

set beside Val's desk.

When she'd brought it over, Val took it and held it out. When he saw that Burl's hands were shaking so, he held

the cup for him. Val handed the half-full cup back to Charlie.

"Think you need the doc?" Val was asking Burl now.

"No doctor," Burl said, his voice sounding raspy.

"You have pain somewhere?" Val asked him, then.

Burl only shook his head again, and leaned back, closing his eyes. As if he was closing them out.

Val straightened up again, looking as though he was thinking.

"What do we do?" Charlie asked, looking up at Val.

"I don't know. Hard to say what it is that's ailing him."

"Should I get the doctor?" Charlie asked.

"Let's have him lay down back there for a spell. See if that helps any."

"In one of the cells?" Charlie asked. She hated to think of Burl in a cell.

Instead of answering, Val hoisted Burl to his feet.

Burl muttered, and Val said, in what seemed to be a comforting voice, "We're gonna find a place for you to rest for a bit, old timer."

Much easier than it had been for Charlie to help walk him, Val assisted Burl to one of the cells, to lay on a cot.

Val left the cell door ajar, and came out. Charlie was standing, watching Burl. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was

ragged.

"Come on," Val told her, ushering her back out towards the front office.

Charlie paused walking, and looked back again. "He looks like he's going to die," she said.

"He's not going to die," Val told her. This time, when he put his hand on the center of her back, and gave her

a push to start her walking, there was no avoiding it.

Once in the office, Val went to pour a cup of coffee.

"What do you think is wrong with him?" Charlie asked.

"I'm not a doctor, darlin'. I don't know. Could be he just had too much sun. Got overheated, or dehydrated. Water and a little

rest might fix him right up."

"Where's your horse?" Val asked then.

"At the stable, still. I was walking there when I saw Burl." She bit at her lip. "They'll be worried at home, if I don't come

soon."

"Well, you should head on then," Val said.

"What about Burl, though?" Charlie protested.

"I'll keep an eye on him for awhile. If he needs the doc, then I'll see to it. I'll get him home later, too."

"Okay," Charlie said, reluctantly.

"I promise I'll take good care of him," Val said, with a slight smile. "Alright?"

"Alright. If he gets real sick, will you let us know?"

"Yes, Just Charlotte, I'll let you know."

"He doesn't have any money-Murdoch will pay for the doctor, I think-"

"We'll worry about that if need be," Val said.

"Maybe he hasn't eaten today-" Charlie began.

"When he wakes up, I'll see if he wants to eat."

"Maybe-" she began again, only to have Val speak over her.

"Here, now. Didn't you come here because you thought I would help?" he pointed out.

At Charlie's nod, he said, "Then you skedaddle on home, and let me do what needs doin'. Alright?"

Her brown eyes met his blue. "Thank you, Mr. Val," she said.

Val's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Thank _you,_ Just Charlotte."

L


	60. Looking over

When Charlie rode up beside the barn at the ranch, she could see Teresa, hanging clothes on the line to dry. Charlie left

Gurth, tied for the moment, and ran over to Teresa.

She told Teresa about what had happened, the words tumbling over one another in her hurry.

Teresa paused with hanging of the wet clothes, and looked concerned.

"That doesn't sound good at all," she said.

"Did Murdoch go and visit Burl this morning?" Charlie asked.

"I thought he did, but I haven't seen him. He must have come home and gone right out onto the range somewhere to work."

"Val said he would get the doctor if he needed to."

"Well, that's good," Teresa said. "Come on in now, and have your lunch."

"Have you eaten?"

"No, I was waiting for you. It's just going to be you and I. Maria's aunt is ill, so I thought we'd just have

sandwiches. It's so hot to heat up the kitchen," Teresa said.

"I have to untack Gurth and rub him down," Charlie said.

"Go do that, and then come inside," Teresa said.

Charlie went to tend to her horse, taking care to make sure Gurth was cooled down before she let him head to the water.

Inside the kitchen, there was a breeze blowing thru the open window. Charlie and Teresa sat at the table, eating

their sandwiches, and when she'd eaten that, Charlie went to get a biscuit, and slathered it with peach jelly.

As they were finishing, Charlie asked Teresa where she thought Scott or Murdoch might be.

"You know that it's basically impossible to say where they are," Teresa said. "They might start out in one spot, and then

go to several more." She gave Charlie a 'sisterly' eye.

"Don't you get any ideas about going to look for them, either," she warned Charlie.

"I'm not thinking that," Charlie denied.

She went then to change her clothes, and breathing a sigh at the comfort of the denim pants and cotton blouse, she went

back downstairs. After she'd fed the cats some of the remaining milk, she went to find Teresa, who was sitting in the library, reading

from a thick book.

"I wish Scott would come," Charlie said, walking around the room and running her fingers over the books on the shelves.

"Why don't you do your homework?"

"I don't feel like it," Charlie protested.

"Well, go find something to do. You're making me nervous, pacing around here," Teresa said.

Charlie went to sit out by the corral, holding one of the kittens, and keeping an eye on the horizon.

When she finally saw the group of men riding in, Charlie set the kitten down, and crawled over the corral fence.

She began walking out towards them. As they got closer she saw that neither Scott, nor Murdoch was among the group.

Johnny was, though, and he greeted her as he rode up. "Hey there, pequeno."

"Hi, Johnny!"

"Want a ride up?" he offered.

"Yes," Charlie said, and Johnny reached down, and pulled her up onto the saddle behind him, without even coming to a

complete halt.

"We're gettin' better at that," Johnny said.

"Where is Scott?" Charlie asked him.

"He and Murdoch had some business to do at the Bostwick's," Johnny said, naming a nearby rancher. "They'll likely take supper over

there."

Charlie began to tell Johnny then, all about what had happened in town, with Burl, and Alice, and then with Val.

"Can we go and check on Burl?" Charlie pleaded.

"I've been in the saddle all afternoon, pequeno," Johnny told her. "First thing I'm gonna do, is wash up and get somethin' to

eat."

"I'll fix you the biggest sandwich ever," Charlie coaxed. "Then can we go?"

"We'll see," he said.

Charlie bit her lip to keep from prodding him into a promise. As he went to put his horse away, she ran to the kitchen,

and washed her hands, and then began assembling a sandwich fit for a king.

Roast beef slices, cheese, slices of tomato, and a slice of onion. She layered the sandwich ingredients nearly twice each, except

for the onion. As Johnny came stomping into the kitchen, he went to wash his hands, and Charlie set the plate on the table.

"Here's your sandwich," Charlie told him, and as he sat down, she scurried to get a glass and filled it with cold milk.

She set the glass in front of him, and then went to cut a slice of blackberry pie.

After that, she sat in the chair next to him, while he ate, resting her arms on the table.

"It was really scary," Charlie confided.

"Burl bein' sick, ya mean?" Johnny asked her, pushing back his empty sandwich plate, and pulling the pie over in front

of him.

At Charlie's nod, Johnny said, "Well, Val might have gotten the doc for him. I imagine he's feelin' better now."

"He didn't know who I was, Johnny!" Charlie confided, her eyes wide with worry.

"Maybe he got too hot, or somethin'," Johnny suggested.

"Can getting too hot make someone forget that they know somebody else?"

Johnny regarded her small, worried face, and took a drink of the milk, setting the glass down.

"The heat can do a lot of things to a person," he said, slowly. "Especially somebody as up-in-years as Burl is."

Teresa came into the kitchen then, greeting Johnny, and going to pour herself a glass of lemonade.

Johnny relayed to Teresa about Murdoch and Scott having gone to the neighboring ranch for the foreseeable portion of

the evening ahead.

Teresa sat down across from Charlie. "Let's have supper in town," she suggested.

"I'm eatin' right now," Johnny said, motioning to the empty plate and the half-eaten pie before him.

"I know you. You'll be ready to eat again in an hour," Teresa said, breezily.

"Could we, Johnny?" Charlie asked. "Then we can check on Burl, too."

"Good idea," Teresa said, as if the decision was made already. "I could take another dozen eggs to him."

"And some cookies?" Charlie suggested.

"Sure," Teresa said.

"Just a minute, you two," Johnny interrupted, and both girls fell quiet, looking at him.

"I've had a long day-I just wanna have a drink, and then go to bed-" he began.

"If we just checked on him, really quickly, and then we came right home again, then you could go to bed," Charlie

said. Her eyes pleading, Charlie said, "Please, Johnny?"

Johnny sighed, and looked to Teresa, and then back at Charlie. "Alright," he said.

Charlie gave him a grateful, dimpled smile, and Teresa got up to start packing cookies.

Instead of taking the buggy, or a wagon into town, the three rode horseback.

"Do you think we should go out to Burl's place, or go to Val's office?" Charlie inquired, looking to her right, where Teresa rode

in the middle between Charlie and Johnny.

"I'll bet he's back home by now," Johnny said. "We'll check out there first."

When they reached the shack, two of the dogs were sleeping on the front stoop. Dismounting from the horses, they

walked up to the front door. Charlie reached down to rub the dog's heads, and they both got to their feet.

Johnny had gone to knock on the door to the shack, while Teresa peered into the dirty window.

"I don't see him inside," Teresa said, when there was no reply to Johnny's knocking.

"Maybe he went huntin'," Johnny said.

"He was too sick to go hunting," Charlie contradicted.

"He might have been feelin' better," Johnny said.

Johnny turned the knob on the door, and, unlocked, it opened.

He stepped in, and both girls followed him. A look around the inside of the shack proved limited. Teresa went to the

stove, where an iron pot sat. She touched the pot, and declared it cold, and then lifted the top.

With a swiftness Teresa dropped the lid back onto the top, and stepped away. "Oh," she said, in a breathy tone.

"What?" Johnny asked.

"I don't know what that is, but whatever it is, should have been thrown out."

Johnny came over and lifted the lid, and then raised his eyebrows, and replaced it. "Whoo whee," he declared.

Charlie, who'd been close enough to get a sniff of the contents of the pot, covered her mouth and nose.

"Was he going to still eat that?" Charlie asked, horrified.

"Let's hope not," Teresa said. She asked Johnny to take it out and feed it to the dogs, and as he did that,

Charlie went over to sit on the floor by the mother dog, who was nursing her pups.

"I'll go take a look 'round outside," Johnny said, when he came back inside. "See if I hear him firin' his rifle."

"We'll clean up in here a bit," Teresa said, and when Johnny had gone, she promptly went into cleaning mode, picking up

dirty dishes from the table and stacking them. She set Charlie to go fetch a bucket of water to bring in, so that the table could

be wiped down.

Charlie went obediently to do that, lugging in one, and then another, bucket of water. After she'd helped Teresa tidy up, Johnny

had come back, saying he hadn't seen or heard Burl.

"Maybe he's still at Val's office, huh?" Charlie asked him. "Or at the doctor's?"

"Maybe."

"Can we go and see?" Charlie asked.

"I just want to finish up a couple of things," Teresa said. "I thought I'd change the sheets if I can find any others. The ones on the bed

are filthy."

"Okay," Johnny said, and when he went back outside, Charlie took her opportunity and slipped out after him, scooping up her favorite pup

and carrying it along with her.

"Do you want to look in the trunks?" Charlie asked him, hopefully.

"No, I don't need to look."

Charlie, who'd been wishing for another chance to look over the trunk's vast contents, was disappointed in his lack of curiousity. She followed

Johnny as he walked around behind the shack.

He bent his knee to climb, and then stood on a old shaky-looking table that leaned against the back of the shack.

"What are you doing?" Charlie asked him.

"Just takin' a look at the roof," Johnny said.

"Sometimes it leaks inside," Charlie offered helpfully. "When Scott and I were here that time, in the storm, it was leaking then-"

"I don't doubt it," Johnny said, hopping to the ground, and rubbing his hands on his pants.

"I wish Burl didn't have to live here," Charlie said, as they stood there.

"Let's go," Johnny said, in answer, and Charlie again tagged after him, as he went to the front door, and back inside.

"Ready?" he asked Teresa, who was just finishing smoothing sheets on the bed.

"Come and take a look," Teresa said, and motioned to him and Charlie.

There was a tiny, makeshift cabinet, and Teresa opened it. "I found a clean pair of sheets in here. Well, _cleaner,_ anyway," she amended.

"Anyway, look."

She moved a raggedy looking blanket aside, and pulled out a photo, in an ornate frame.

Johnny held it, while he and Charlie looked at it.

In the photo was a woman, and she was wearing a necklace and bracelets, and had her hair swept up in a bun at the back

of her neck. The dress she was wearing looked familiar to Charlie.

"Pretty lady," Johnny said.

"Isn't she?" Teresa said, in agreement. "It was all tucked away under the sheets and things."

"Isn't that the dress that we saw in the trunk?" Charlie asked her.

"I thought the same thing," Teresa agreed.

"Who is she, do you think?" Charlie mused.

"Maybe his wife, or his mother?" Teresa suggested.

Johnny handed the frame back off to Teresa. "We'd better get goin'," he said.

Charlie took another look at the picture in Teresa's hand.

"I think she's a princess, or something," she said.

"Oh, you do?" Teresa asked, looking amused. She replaced the photo where it had been when she'd discovered it.

Johnny was at the door, tapping his foot impatiently. "Come on, you two," he ordered.

"Alright, we're coming," Teresa said.

"Come on, pequeno," Johnny said, holding the door open, as Teresa passed by.

"I hate to leave the pups like this," Charlie said, nuzzling the puppy with her chin.

"They have their mother. They'll be fine."

Charlie reluctantly went to put the puppy back with the others, and then went out in front of Johnny, as he pulled the

door shut behind them.

L


	61. Pausing

Once in town, in front of the jail, Charlie was down, and off of her horse quicker than a snap, and was already at the door when

Johnny said, "Hey. Come back here and tie your reins."

Charlie paused, her hand on the doorknob, to look back at him. She'd swiftly looped the ends of the reins over the post once only, in

the hurry that she was in.

Charlie wanted to protest that Gurth wouldn't leave, or wander from his spot where she'd left him, but she stuffed that protest

back into her mouth again, and went to tie Gurth more securely.

When they all went into the jail together, Val was sitting, his feet up on the desk, smoking a cheroot and whittling at a piece of wood.

"Hey, there, Lancers," he greeted them. He stood up, brushing the shavings from his pants, and came around the corner of his desk.

After he and Johnny had exchanged greetings, Charlie asked, "How is Burl? Did you have to get the doctor?"

"I had the doc come over and take a look at him-" Val began.

"Is he better?" Charlie continued, and headed towards the back, towards the jail cells.

"He's not back there," Val called after her, and Charlie paused, turning, and then coming back to stand by Teresa.

Val went on to explain that the doctor had come, taken a look at Burl, and then later, when Val had gone to run an errand, he'd

come back to find Burl gone.

"Where did he go?" Charlie asked, just as Teresa asked what the doctor had said.

"Doc said he must have gotten too hot for one thing," Val said. "And, as far as where he went, Charlie, I don't know."

Val went on to say that the doctor had been puzzled by Burl's confusion, thinking it might be attributed to the heat, but

yet not certain. "He said the old fella's not in the best shape."

"Did he know why Burl gets confused that way?" Teresa asked.

"No, he didn't. Not really. He said he wanted to do some readin' up on it," Val said.

Charlie nibbled at her lip. "He wasn't at home, though," she told Val.

Val exchanged a quick look with Johnny, and then said, "Well, likely he was out hunting-"

"Johnny didn't think so, did you, Johnny?" Charlie asked, looking up at Johnny.

"I didn't hear his gun, but that doesn't mean he wasn't out huntin'," Johnny reminded her.

"He's sick, though," Charlie protested.

"He rested here some, and ate a ham sandwich I fetched over from the café," Val told her. "I reckon that he was feeling better."

Charlie gave Val a dubious, worrying glance, but said nothing.

"Are you two ready for some supper?" Johnny asked the girls.

Val was invited to come along, and the four of them made their way across the street to the café.

Charlie didn't have her usual healthy appetite, and she was glad that it was a different waitress that came to take

their orders. She was not anxious to see Alice.

After they'd been brought their meal plates, however, Alice made an appearance, coming over to refill the lemonade glasses.

"You've had a busy day, hmm?" she addressed Charlie.

Charlie settled for an answer of, "I guess so."

"Got the old man all taken care of, did you?" Alice continued.

Charlie bristled inwardly, as Val spoke up. "She brought him over to me. Doc came to take a look at him."

"Since when is a doctor needed for a drunken reprobate?" Alice asked.

There was that word again. _Reprobate_. Charlie resolved to ask someone, or to look it up to find its meaning.

"He wasn't drunk," Charlie said. She tried to keep her tone quiet enough so as not to be deemed disrespectful. "He was sick."

"Oh, was he now?" Alice asked, eying Charlie, and chuckling a little.

"Yes, he was," Charlie began, winding herself up. "He was too hot, and he was confused-"

"Whiskey has a way of doing that to a man," Alice said.

"He wasn't-" Charlie began again.

"Charlie."

This from Johnny. Quietly. Charlie turned her gaze to him, and he gave a slight shake of his head.

For a brief moment of rebellion, Charlie thought to continue her protest. Then, she decided against it. A feeling of

betrayal and other's misunderstanding swept over her.

"I'm going to wait outside," she announced abruptly, though quietly enough. And, with that, she stood up, and scooted

her chair to the table neatly, and headed towards the door.

She could hear Teresa say, once, protesting, "Charlie-", but she walked on. And, too, she could hear Alice saying

something about her being 'misguided' and 'sassy'.

Oooooo, Charlie thought. She really, really, disliked that woman. She didn't care that Murdoch said Alice's 'bark was worse

than her bite', or whatever. Alice was the one who was 'misguided'.

Charlie sat down on a bench just outside the door of the café, and concentrated on watching people pass by. Walking, and

on horseback, or in their wagons. A girl from school, Ann, passed by on the other side of the street, walking with her parents, and

she waved to Charlie. Charlie lifted her hand in a return wave.

She tried to calm her churning thoughts down, but she still felt mad inside. Johnny, shushing her like that. And Alice, spouting

off about old Burl-

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there on the bench. Not long. Perhaps ten minutes or so.

She heard the bell over the door of the café jingle as it was opened, and then closed, and then Johnny passed in front of her,

and came to sit down beside her on the bench.

Charlie concentrated on the street, and the passers by, and avoided looking directly at him.

Johnny was quiet, too, for a few moments. Then, he said, into the silence, "You're gonna be hungry, later on. Not hardly eatin'

anything in there."

"I didn't feel like eating," Charlie said, still looking straight ahead. "And I didn't feel like sitting there any longer."

"There's always folks that are gonna have different opinions about things, pequeno," he said. "It's just part of life."

"She's wrong about Burl," Charlie maintained, stubbornly.

Johnny was still, and Charlie looked to her left to him. "You don't think she's right, do you?" she asked him, a bit indignantly.

"No. I don't think she's right."

Part of her was relieved at his words. Part of her was still vexed, though.

"If you don't think that she's right, then why did you shush me in there?" she asked.

"Because you were gettin' wound up, and you shouldn't be talkin' to an adult that way."

"She was mean today, though! She didn't even want to give Burl a cup of water-"

"I'm not sayin' that her actions are all in the right. Right now, though, you're makin' this more about Alice and what she

thinks than you are about Burl."

Charlie opened her mouth to speak, to protest, then she closed it again.

"I guess I am," she admitted.

As Teresa and Val came out then, Charlie said quietly, under her breath, "I still don't like her, though."

Though said softly, and under her breath, Johnny still heard.

L

Once they left the café, Val headed back to his office, promising Charlie that he would take a ride out to the shack the

next morning to see if Burl was about, and doing well.

Walking towards the horses, Charlie cast a glance to Johnny.

"A lot could happen by morning," she said. "Maybe we could go back now-and see if he's there-"

"No, we're not," Johnny said. "It's late, and I'm tired, and it's hard tellin' where the old codger has gotten off to."

"But, Johnny-" Charlie began to protest.

Johnny paused, reins in his hand, and turned that blue-eyed gaze onto her.

"Pequeno," he said, warningly. "I said, 'No'."

Charlie paused, as well, and then subsided into silence. Mounting, they began the ride home in that silence.

Teresa made a couple of comments about being concerned about Burl, and about having Murdoch check on him the

next day as well as Val.

Charlie stayed quiet. She was tired, and there was nothing she could say to further the cause. She would only get

herself into Dutch.

As they rode up, the sun was setting, and the front door opened, and Scott came out.

He walked over to greet them, as they dismounted, and began to untack the horses.

"Where have you three been?" he asked.

Teresa began to fill Scott in on what had happened, about Charlie taking Burl to Val's earlier in the day, and then all of them

going out to the shack in search of him, and then to town.

"A lot going on," Scott said, in response, looking to Charlie. Charlie met his eyes, but said nothing.

"You alright?" Scott asked her, running a hand over her shoulder.

Charlie nodded. "Just tired."

"Sounds like a long day for you," Scott said.

Charlie nodded again, and as she moved to pull the saddle from Gurth's back, Johnny said, "I'll finish him up for ya, pequeno. You

can head on inside."

"Thank you," Charlie said.

"Go get washed up and ready for bed," Scott told her.

"Okay," Charlie said, and headed towards the house. She left the three of them, there, by the corral, talking.

Probably hashing over Burl, or maybe, instead, talking about her, Charlie thought. About how she'd left her supper virtually

untouched, and gone outside, miffed. Then, she knew she was being silly. They might tell Scott she hadn't eaten, but

neither Teresa or Johnny was going to make her out to look like the bad person in this.

Charlie climbed the stairs to her bedroom, where she stripped off her pants and shirt, and washed, and then

pulled her long white nightgown over her head.

She was loosening her hair from her braid, when there was a tap on the door. By now, Charlie could recognize knocks from

the different Lancer family members. Murdoch's was more forceful; Johnny's lighter; Teresa, several small ones; and then Scott. His was

always the same. Only two, somewhere between Murdoch's and Johnny's in force. Not loud, and not soft.

"Come in," Charlie said, and he did, leaving the door slightly ajar and coming over to the window seat where she

was sitting, tugging on her hair. He was carrying the book they'd been reading, and a glass of milk, which he sat on the nightstand.

"Looks like you've got some snarls in there," he told Charlie, reaching up to touch the back of her hair.

"It will take forever to get them all out," Charlie said.

"No. Not forever," Scott said, sounding slightly amused. "Get your hairbrush."

Charlie got up, and went to retrieve her hairbrush from the dressing table, and coming back to hand it off to him.

"Sit down here, and let's see what I can do with it," he said. Charlie sat down beside him, and turned her back, as he began

to brush out her hair.

"I took Burl to Val's," she said, in beginning.

"That was the right thing to do."

"He was sitting on a bench behind the café-and he was sweaty, and he seemed sick-"

"It was real warm out today. He might have walked too fast," Scott said.

"Val said the doctor wasn't sure, though," Charlie said.

"Well, you got him somewhere to cool off, and got him some help, so you did right."

"That lady, Alice, at the café-I went in to ask her for a cup of water for him, and she came out and started saying

all sorts of things."

Scott was quiet, and kept on brushing her hair. There was silence for a few minutes, and then when he handed her

brush to her, he said, "There you go."

Charlie turned to look at him. "She said I was sassy to her. And that Murdoch wouldn't like it if he knew."

"Were you?" Scott asked. "Sassy to her?"

Charlie hesitated, considering, and determined to be honest. "I guess I was a little bit. She was acting as though giving

Burl a drink of water was costing her money, or something."

"It's not your place to tell an adult how to behave," Scott said.

"I wasn't, Scott," Charlie protested. "I just told her he wasn't drunk, when she kept saying that he was."

"Mmmm," Scott said, looking thoughtful.

"He didn't know who I was at first," Charlie said. "And when I mentioned Murdoch, he didn't remember him, either!"

"Sounds as though he was real confused," Scott said.

"What can make a person be that way?" Charlie asked him. "Everybody keeps saying it was the heat-do you think that

was it?"

"It's hard to say, Charlie. A doctor would have to determine that."

A moment or so later, he said, "Time to get to bed."

Charlie went to scramble up onto the bed, and underneath the quilts. Scott handed her the glass of milk sitting on the nightstand.

"You didn't eat much of your supper, Teresa says," he said.

"I couldn't stand to listen to that woman talk about Burl." Charlie took a long drink of the cold milk. She wished she could have

a sandwich to go with it. With slices of Maria's thick bread, and ham, and tomatoes. Just thinking about it made her stomach

rumble in hunger.

"Sounds as though you should have eaten your supper at the café," Scott said.

She should have, she knew. Especially since Johnny had been tired and all, but still had taken her and Teresa out to

eat. And then, he'd had to pay for her meal, when she'd just gotten up and walked out.

Charlie nodded. "I should have," she admitted.

"Go down and make yourself a quick sandwich," Scott told her.

"Thank you!" Charlie said, scrambling off of the bed, and heading for the door.

She took the stairs on a run, and, at the bottom, she very nearly collided with Johnny, who was heading up.

"Whoa," he said, reaching out to steady her.

"Sorry," Charlie said, breathlessly.

"It's alright." He patted her on one arm. "Sleep well, pequeno."

As he moved to go around her, and on up the stairs, Charlie caught at his hand.

"Johnny?"

"What?"

"It was nice of you to take Teresa and I out to eat supper. And, I'm sorry that I wasted your money by not eating."

Johnny regarded her thoughtfully, and smiled. "Okay," he said, in acceptance of her apology.

Charlie gave him a swift, hard hug around his waist, and then sprinted on towards the kitchen.

L


	62. Lucy's news

It was the next morning, before she left for school, that Charlie remembered to look up the word. She went to pull down the dictionary

from the shelves in Murdoch's library, and sounded out the word to herself, running her fingers over the words.

 _Reprobate: Unprincipled person, scoundrel, good-for-nothing; a sinner who is predestined to damnation._

It sounded even worse now.

Charlie puzzled over those words, and how Alice had connected them to old Burl, as she rode to school on Gurth.

She'd dallied so long, letting Gurth drift along at his own pace, and then walked slowly from the stable towards school, that

the bell was ringing when she still had a ways to walk yet.

Even though she ran the last bit, the other children were already at their desks, and Miss Susan up front by the time Charlie

entered, a little breathless.

"You're late," John said, under his breath as Charlie passed by his seat. Wishing she could give him a good pinch, Charlie slid

into her desk seat.

Miss Susan only nodded at Charlie and said nothing about her rushed entry. A fact which Charlie was grateful for. Some of the

teachers at the boarding school had been less than tolerant of any arrival that wasn't strictly on time.

With the excitement and confusion of the day before, and then the busy evening in town, Charlie hadn't completed her

homework. Handwriting and arithmetic sums. Miss Susan frowned about that, though she didn't say much in front of the other

children. As she dismissed for the first recess, Miss Susan asked Charlie to stay inside.

When she asked why the homework wasn't finished, Charlie told her briefly what had happened, and that it had been

busy, trying to help Burl.

"I've seen that man around town occasionally," the teacher said. "I've often wondered about him." She finished by saying

that Charlie could do double the handwriting that evening to make up her work, and then let her go on outside to join

the other children.

Even though the teacher had been kind, Charlie still felt embarrassed. Scott wouldn't be pleased if he knew she hadn't

done her homework the evening before. He'd just trusted her and assumed that she'd been responsible about it. And, admittedly,

she could have done the school work when she and Teresa had been home alone, waiting for Johnny. She'd just felt too

restless, and anxious.

At recess Charlie went off with Rebecca, and told her all about what had happened the day before. They were sitting on the knob

of a in-ground cellar that was near the schoolyard, when they were joined by Lucy. Charlie and Rebecca naturally stopped

their conversation about Burl as Lucy walked closer. Charlie knew how Lucy felt about the old man. Thinking that he was strange,

and scary.

When Lucy said 'hello', both Rebecca and Charlie answered politely.

"I'm having my birthday party soon," Lucy announced, sitting down beside the other girls, and arranging her dress neatly

around her ankles. "I'm going to invite both of you to come."

"That's nice," Rebecca said.

Charlie stayed still, thinking that she didn't particularly care to go to Lucy's house for a party. She had the fairly certain notion, though, that

Teresa would be in favor of the idea.

Lucy began rattling on then about what she'd overheard her father discussing with her mother. It was about Burl, and to that, Charlie

paid attention.

"That old place that he lives in doesn't even belong to him," Lucy was reporting. "It belongs to someone that used to live 'round here,

and he moved away. And Mr. Carson at the freight office got a letter from the man, because he'd written him saying that there was

a squatter in his house." Lucy paused to take a breath, and then continued, obviously enjoying the attention she had from both Charlie

and Rebecca. "And so now the man that owns it, is going to come and throw the old man out."

Rebecca was wide-eyed, and Charlie was, at first, speechless, at the thought of Burl being homeless. Where would he stay? He had

no money. And he had all those dogs, too...

Suddenly overwhelmed, with Lucy's overbearing ways, and with the anxiety about Burl, Charlie stood up, and went back into

the school house.

The rest of the day didn't improve overly much after that. Charlie found it hard to concentrate on the lessons, and at lunchtime, Lucy

wanted to continue talking about what she knew.

"Probably it's not even true," Rebecca said, in a low tone to Charlie, trying to comfort her.

After school was dismissed for the day, Charlie went as swiftly as she could to the jail office. When she went in, Val

wasn't around, though. The coffee pot was still warm to her touch, though, so Charlie didn't think he'd been gone long.

She thought she would wait for a few minutes, and busied herself sweeping up the office, and then the two jail cells.

When she heard the door open and then close again, she went out, broom in hand.

Val greeted her with a 'Hullo there, J.C.' _Just Charlotte. His nickname for her._

"Did you see Burl this morning?" Charlie asked, abruptly.

"'Well, hello to you, too, Mr. Val,'" Val said mockingly. "How have you been, Mr. Val?"

"Sorry," Charlie said. "Hello, Mr. Val."

"Hullo," Val returned.

He went to sit down behind his desk, opening the desk drawer and sorting thru it. Charlie went to stand at the corner of the desk.

"Been sweepin' up for me, huh?' Val asked her.

"While I was waiting for you, I figured I might as well."

"Well, thank you very much," Val said.

"You're welcome. Did you go out to see Burl?"

"Yes, I did." He sat back in his chair, regarding Charlie.

"How was he?" Charlie asked, anxiously.

"He seemed alright," Val said.

"He wasn't mixed up? He knew who you were, right off?" Charlie asked.

"He seemed to know me. Said he was feeling some better."

"Oh. Well, that's good," Charlie said, going to put the broom away. She returned to stand beside the desk again, biting at her

lower lip.

"Lucy Stone says that her father said that Burl doesn't own that shack. And that the man who does own it, is going to come to

town, and throw Burl out," Charlie said.

Val looked serious, but was silent, and after a moment or so, Charlie asked, "Can he do that? Put Burl out, I mean?"

"If he has a deed to the property to prove it's really his, and he doesn't want Burl there, then yes, he can do that."

"But, it's nothing but a shack," Charlie protested. "What harm is it doing for Burl to stay there?"

"I don't think that it's about 'harm', necessarily," Val said. "More about ownership, and the laws."

"But, can't you do something? So that he doesn't get thrown out?" Charlie persisted.

"I'm not familiar with who really owns the property, but if, and when, somebody does come to me and show me a deed, and request Burl

be put out, then I would have to honor that."

Charlie was torn between understanding his reasoning, and being appalled at the laws of the adult world. At her silence,

Val said, kindly, "You're old enough to understand that, aren't you?"

Charlie nodded, reluctantly.

"How about we go get a cold lemonade?" Val suggested.

"I have to get home," Charlie said. "I didn't tell anyone I was staying in town after school. They'd be worried."

"Alright. Next time, then, hmm?" Val dug into his pocket, and pulled out some coins. He held out two nickels to her. "This is for

cleaning up around here."

"You don't have to pay me," Charlie said.

"Sure, I do. I told you from the beginning that if you kept it tidy around here, that I'd consider it a paying job. A deal is a deal. Take

the money."

"Okay," Charlie said, taking the two coins from him. "Thank you."

She said her goodbyes to Val, and went on to the stable, to collect Gurth.

At the fork in the road, she wished she could turn left, and go see Burl, but she resisted, and turned Gurth to the right, toward

the ranch.

Once at home, after she'd cooled Gurth down, and turned him out, Maria sent her upstairs to change her clothes, and then

gave her the chore of picking the garden vegetables. After she'd toted the basket to the back door, and washed her hands,

Maria had a glass of cold milk for her to drink, and two oatmeal cookies, fresh from the oven. Charlie finished the snack, and set

her glass near the sink.

"Donde esta Murdoch? Scott?" she asked Maria, in halting Spanish.

Her attempts always pleased Maria, who smiled at Charlie and shook her head in reply.

"Trabajando," Maria replied.

Charlie shook her head, as well. She didn't know that word. Maria made a gesture towards the outside, and Charlie understood

that she was saying the men were out working somewhere.

That was common, at this time of the day. Still, Charlie wished that Scott was nearby to talk to. Or Murdoch. She knew that Teresa was

not at home, either. The buggy had been absent from its customary spot.

Charlie gathered her school work, and went to the library, sitting behind Murdoch's big desk, and attempting to do her

handwriting. It was too hard to concentrate, so she gave it up, and went to the barn to play with the latest batch of kittens. Cuddling them, with

their soft fur against her cheeks, calmed Charlie.

She heard the horses coming in, and the sound of men's voices. She put the kittens back with their mother, and went to the barn

door, and then running over to the corral to greet them. Several of the hands stood, talking to Murdoch and Scott. When Scott was

finished, and heading her way, Charlie opened the gate for him to come thru.

"Thanks, kiddo," Scott greeted her. "How was your day?"

"It was a long day," Charlie said, in honesty, closing the gate, as Scott took over, hooking it again.

"Was it?"

Charlie nodded.

"It was a long day around here, too," Scott told her, with a smile.

"I stopped to see Mr. Val. He said he went out to see Burl this morning."

"How did he say he was?"

"He thought he was better, I guess."

"That's good," Scott said, as they began walking towards the house together. "Have much school work to do tonight?"

Charlie didn't particularly care to discuss school work right then. "I have some," she settled for saying.

"Better get on it, while Maria's finishing supper up," Scott told her.

"Can't I do it after supper?" she asked.

"Why?" Scott asked, looking down at her, as they walked.

"I want to talk to you."

"Important talk, huh?" he asked, with another slight smile.

Charlie nodded solemnly.

"Alright. Let me get a cold drink, and we can sit down and talk for awhile," he said.

"I'll get your drink for you," Charlie volunteered. "Do you want lemonade?"

"Lemonade sounds wonderful."

At the front door, they parted ways, as Charlie sped off to the kitchen, to pour Scott a tall glass of the cold lemonade. She carried

it carefully, so as not to spill, to the library, where Scott was already sitting, on the end of the comfortable settee. He had his

sleeves rolled up, and Charlie handed him the glass.

"Good and cold," he said, in appreciation, after he'd taken a long drink of the lemonade.

Charlie sat down next to him, and Scott lowered the glass, resting it on one knee.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked.

Charlie told him, in a rush, what Lucy had said about how Burl would likely be evicted from the shack. And how she'd asked Val

about it, and he'd said he would have no choice but to follow thru.

"Hmm," Scott said, in reply, looking serious.

"What if it's true? Where can he go?" Charlie asked. "He doesn't have any money."

"We don't know that he doesn't have any money."

"He can't have, though," Charlie protested. "Why would he live the way that he does, if he had any money?"

"There could be many reasons. People's behaviors aren't always easily understandable."

At Charlie's look of confusion, Scott went on. "He might be confused, as to whether he's put some money up somewhere, or something

like that."

By now, Murdoch and Teresa had come into the library, during the conversation, and sat down.

"Do you really think so?" Charlie asked, sitting up very straight, and feeling excited.

"It's a possibility-"

"Then if he has some money, he could use it to get another place to live!" Charlie said, with enthusiasm. "A real house, not like that

shack!"

"That's right," Teresa said, in agreement.

"I said that he _might_ have some money put up," Scott corrected. "I don't know that he definitely does."

"Well, we could help him look," Charlie went on. "And, maybe, then he might remember if he did put money somewhere-"

"That place could use a good cleaning, anyway," Teresa interjected.

"We could have a cleaning day!" Charlie said. "We could pack some food, and go over, and really look thru things!"

"Like those trunks, hmm?" Murdoch asked her knowingly, with a raised eyebrow.

Charlie gave him a small smile. "Maybe that's where we'll find lots of money-at the bottom of one of the trunks."

"Maybe so," Murdoch said, smiling back at her, indulgently.

"Besides," Teresa offered, "Even if he doesn't have any actual money, those bolts of brocade could be sold-they're worth

quite a lot, surely."

Charlie smiled gratefully at the older girl. "Yes!"

As they went into the supper table, Teresa remarked that she didn't know how Burl had survived the last winter

in that shack, with the thin walls, and the wind whistling thru.

And, though she didn't say so at precisely that moment, Charlie determined to herself that, by the time the winter

winds were blowing again, Burl would be warm and comfortable in a much better house.

L


	63. Plans set

Two more days passed, and the family had no contact with Burl. Charlie asked, but all three, Murdoch, Scott and Johnny had

too much work to do. They were moving cattle to different pastures, and by the time the evening came, they were too tired to

go visiting.

On Friday morning, as she was finishing breakfast and preparing to leave for school, Charlie listened as they outlined their

plans for the day. She was fairly certain of the answer, but she asked, anyway.

"Will any of you be able to go and check on Burl?" Charlie asked.

"Not today, darling," Murdoch answered.

They went on talking then, about the cattle, and the grass, and other ranch related topics. Charlie subsided, but when she'd

gathered up her books and her lunch pail, she caught Scott out near the barn. Jelly had Gurth saddled and ready to go.

She took her opportunity, while Scott was talking to one of the hands, and putting his fencing gloves in his back pocket.

When the hand had walked on, Scott turned to her, holding onto Gurth's reins.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

At Charlie's nod, he said, "Have a good day, alright?"

"Okay. I hope you do, too."

"I plan on it," Scott said, with a smile.

Charlie looked up into his tanned face. "Could I go out after school, to check on Burl?"

"No, I don't want you going out there alone. We'll make it over there this weekend some time."

Disappointed at his refusal, Charlie said, "You don't still think that Burl is dangerous, do you?" She couldn't believe it if it was true. The

family had been around Burl enough to know he was harmless, hadn't they?

"It's not that I believe he's dangerous, necessarily." Scott said. "Just more-unpredictable."

"He'd never hurt _me,_ though, Scott!"

"We don't really know _what_ he would do, in any given situation," Scott said. "It's best you don't go out there unless you're with

one of us."

Charlie sighed, frustrated. And, though, she did not voice protest, she was thinking them to herself.

A fact which did not escape Scott's attention, because he gave her a knowing look.

"I expect you to mind me, Charlie," he said.

Charlie let her eyes roam over his face, startled. She wondered when Scott had begun to recognize what she was thinking without

her even speaking it.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" she asked him, ruefully.

"I'm getting to know you darn well, I think," he said.

The look he gave Charlie then was intent. "Home right after school," he reminded.

Charlie sighed again. "Okay," she said, in resignation.

L

Again, Miss Susan's mother had fallen ill. School was dismissed an hour earlier than was usual. The unexpected pleasure

of being released early was heady to most of the children. As they were leaving the school yard, Rebecca reminded some of the boys

that they were being happy at the thought of someone else's illness.

"Ah, I'm not," Billy Thornton said. "I'm just glad I can go fishin'!"

Some of the other children were discussing what they were going to do with their free hour.

"If I go home, my Ma'll just put me chorin'," another boy lamented.

"I can go to the store for Ma," Rebecca told Jason. "She needed some more thread."

Jason said alright, and the children all parted ways. Rebecca asked Charlie if she wanted to walk along to the

millinery store for the thread. Charlie agreed, happy to be out in the sunshine with her best friend.

"I've got three cents," she told Rebecca. "We can get a peppermint stick each at the mercantile."

At the millinery shop, the two girls entered, and immediately became quieter. It seemed like such a 'grown-up'

sort of place. There were hats, of all shapes and colors, and bonnets, and bolts of material. Charlie had only ever been in

the shop once before, and that had been with Teresa.

When Mrs. Stanley had finished waiting on the two older women she was serving, she turned to greet Rebecca and

Charlie.

Rebecca explained about the thread she needed for her mother, and Mrs. Stanley showed her two different shades of blue thread. While

Rebecca was busy with that, Charlie wandered around the store. She felt some of the fabrics, and that caused her to think of

all that beautiful bounty in Burl's trunks. Charlie knew she was no expert on fabrics, but it seemed to her that there was nothing

here that came near to comparing in beauty and softness to what Burl had. Thoughts were forming in her head.

As Rebecca was finishing, Charlie went to stand beside her, as Mrs. Stanley wrapped the thread in a brown package.

"Do you have any brocade?" Charlie asked the woman.

"Brocade?" Mrs. Stanley asked, looking surprised. "My goodness, no, I don't."

"Do you not want any?" Charlie asked, and Mrs. Stanley seemed even more startled.

"It's not that I don't want to offer it here," she said. "I just haven't had the opportunity to be able to do so."

"If you did have an opportunity, to have quite a lot of it, would you want to sell it here?" Charlie persisted.

"I would never be able to afford to do so," the store keeper said.

"If you could afford it," Charlie went on, "Do you think it would sell well here in your store?"

By now, even Rebecca was wide-eyed at Charlie's questions.

"I think that it would sell, yes," Mrs. Stanley said.

Without explaining, Charlie smiled at the friendly woman. "Thank you!" she said, and she and Rebecca went out

onto the sidewalk into the sunshine.

"Let's go get our peppermint sticks," Charlie said, taking Rebecca's hand to tow her along.

"What was all that about?" Rebecca asked, as they walked.

Charlie told Rebecca about the trunks in Burl's shed, and how she thought he could sell some of that material to the

millinery shop, so as to live better.

There was a crowd at the mercantile, and the girls had to wait, and once they'd purchased their candy, they went

out of the store.

They sat, on a bench outside, watching people pass by, and eating their candy.

A wagon, with a big man, stopped across the street, and the man climbed down. Rebecca stood up in a hurry.

"It's my Pa," she said. Charlie looked, curious. She'd seen Rebecca's father only once, but since Jason and Rebecca were both

so very nice, she thought that their folks must be as well.

"Oh," Charlie said, standing up as well.

"He'll be put out at me for not heading straight home," Rebecca said. She was already walking across the street towards the

wagon, and Charlie followed.

Once near, Rebecca said, "Hullo, Pa."

The big man turned, and Charlie saw that he looked like a larger version of Jason.

"Should you not be at home, helping your mother get supper?" the man said.

"Yes, I was going," Rebecca said, hastily. "I went to get that thread that Ma was wanting."

"Ah," he said, with a brief nod, his eyes traveling to the candy.

"You had money for candy?" he asked, then, and Charlie thought he sounded gruff.

"Charlie bought it for me," Rebecca said. She said, "This is Charlie, Pa. Charlie, this is my father."

"Afternoon, young lady," Rebecca's father said, to Charlie.

"Hello," Charlie said.

"You're still stayin' out at the Lancers, is that right?"

"Yes, sir," Charlie said, politely. She wanted Rebecca's father to like her.

"Where's your brother?" he asked then, looking to Rebecca again.

"He went home."

"That's where you'd best be headin' to, as well. It's gettin' late. Your Ma will be wondering after you."

Rebecca gave Charlie a quick look. "Thanks for the candy, Charlie. I'll see you on Sunday at church."

Charlie nodded. "Bye," she said.

She went the way to the stable to collect Gurth, and was just finishing her peppermint stick by the time she got there.

Gurth was already saddled and waiting.

"Got him ready for ya," Ben Johnson, the stable hand, told her. "I thought you'd have been along before this."

"Why? Is it late?" Charlie asked, feeling the first stirrings of misgivings. Surely she and Rebecca hadn't tarried that long,

had they?

"Near to five, it is, I think," he said.

Five? It couldn't be!

Charlie wiped her sticky hands on her dress, and mounted Gurth. She said a goodbye to Ben and began riding towards

home.

L

Charlie didn't gallop Gurth all the way to the ranch. It was too warm, and she didn't want to do that to Gurth, not to mention the

fact that she did not want to face Johnny's wrath. Johnny would not consider being late for supper and chores a good enough excuse

to run a horse in this heat. She didn't dawdle, either, though.

At the barn, Jelly was fooling with his pig, herding her back to her pen.

Charlie slid down from Gurth's back, and Jelly was saying how she was late.

Charlie resisted the urge to get sassy with him. She had loosened the cinch on the saddle when she saw Scott

coming out of the house, walking towards her.

"I was getting ready to come and look for you," he said, in greeting. He looked serious.

Charlie lifted the saddle down, and stood, holding it, trying to gauge his level of vexation.

"I didn't realize it was so late-" she began.

Scott stood, his hands on his hips, regarding her.

"Have you been out to Burl's? After I told you not to?" he asked. He sounded abrupt, nearly angry, Charlie thought. For a long

few moments she was so startled that she hesitated in answering.

"No," she said, hastily, as she saw his eyebrow raise, at her hesitation. "I was only talking to Rebecca-"

Scott reached out to take the saddle from her. "I'll put this away. You tend to your horse."

Charlie eyed him warily, but went to lead Gurth to the pasture, to let him have a drink, and then to be out with the

other horses. When she came back from doing that, Scott was leaning against the side of the corral, waiting for her.

Jelly was still about, though a bit away, closer to the barn, stacking buckets.

Charlie paused, to stand in front of Scott.

"Alright," he began. "So, tell me why you were so late."

"When school got out early-" Charlie began, and Scott held up a hand to pause her talking.

"School got out early again?" he asked. "At noon?"

Noon? Charlie knew he was thinking that was even longer that she would have to explain her absence.

"No," she said quickly. "Just an hour early. And Rebecca asked me to go to the millinery shop with her, and then we went to

the mercantile to get some candy. And, then-we just watched people going up and down the street for awhile. I didn't know it was

getting so late."

"Hmm," Scott said. He still was looking serious. Not pleased. "Maria and Teresa worry when you're not home on time. And, then, when

I come in, and you're still not home, then I get worried."

Charlie was watching him, as he went on talking. "So, if school got out an hour early, then you thought you had an hour to spend

in town, is that right?"

Charlie nodded, not sure what he was getting at.

"So, a trip to the millinery, and then to get some candy, and then some time watching folks go by-did you think all that was

only going to fill up an hour?"

At Charlie's puzzled look, Scott said, "What did I say this morning, before you left?"

Charlie thought back, and said, reluctantly, "To come home after school."

"You didn't do that, though. Did you?"

Charlie studied his face. She felt unsure. He seemed so put out at her. Stern, almost.

"I didn't think it was wrong-" Charlie began. "To go with Rebecca, and then to the store, I mean. I didn't think that-" she

hesitated. "I wasn't trying to disobey you, Scott." She felt her face get all warm.

After another long few moments of him regarding her with that same intense expression, Scott seemed to relent.

"Alright," he said. At first Charlie wasn't sure just what he meant by that 'alright'. Did he mean that he believed her? Did

it mean that the scolding was over?

"I don't want to have to get real strict with you, Charlie," he said. "I want you to have fun, with Rebecca and your other friends. But,

it's not alright to worry everybody here at home about where you are. Understood?"

Charlie nodded. "Yes." She didn't want Scott to be upset with her. It made her stomach feel all _flip-floppy_ inside, whenever he

took a stern approach to her this way.

"Okay," he said, and, though he still looked serious, and wasn't exactly smiling, he seemed less intense. "You need to get

in, and get washed up. Supper's ready to be put on the table. Once you eat, you can change your clothes, and do your chores then."

Charlie nodded, feeling subdued. She hoped that the rest of the family wouldn't say anything to her about being late for supper, or

about they'd been concerned about where she'd been. She washed her hands in the kitchen, and while Maria didn't say anything, she

gave Charlie a clearly disapproving look. By the time she reached the dinner table, the rest of the family were already seated. Charlie

slid into her chair at the table. Johnny gave her a nudge in the ribs, and a grin, and Charlie felt better.

To Charlie's relief, nobody said anything about her lateness, although she could tell that they all knew that Scott had given

her a talking-to. The conversation turned to plans for the weekend. She listened as

they talked about work around the house, and then Teresa brought up the previous idea of going to Burl's to clean.

"I imagine we can find time for that," Murdoch said. "One of us should be able to go with you, if you're sure you want

to do that, Teresa."

"I'm sure," Teresa said. "He needs our help."

Charlie looked at Teresa across the table, in admiration. Teresa saw her looking, and smiled at Charlie, adding,

"Charlie can come along. I can use her help."

Any other time, Charlie would have just assumed that she would be allowed to go along with Teresa to Burl's. Now, though, she wasn't

so sure. She thought so, but yet, maybe Scott planned to make her stay at home, as a punishment.

Charlie looked over at Scott. "Can I, Scott?" she asked, forgetting to use 'may I'.

"You can go," Scott said.

L


	64. Uncovering

That night, when Charlie had been sent upstairs to prepare for bed, she got into her nightgown, and sat cross-legged on her bed,

twisting the quilt between her fingers, and thinking.

Charlie had gone to open the door, leaving it ajar, and she could hear when Scott was approaching, up the stairs, and down

the hallway.

The book they were reading now was 'The Swiss Family Robinson'. They'd only just begun it a day or so before, but it

was an exciting book, and usually Charlie was eager to read from it. Tonight, though, Charlie was still feeling a little nervous about Scott.

When Scott came in, though, he came and sat on the bed beside her, and acted just as he usually did. He read thru half a chapter,

and after a few minutes, Charlie relaxed, and even scooted over closer to him. When he was finished, and put the bookmark

in, he closed the book, and laid it aside.

Charlie took the opportunity to say, very quietly, "I'm sorry about this afternoon."

Scott looked at her, and then, he put his arm around her, and hugged her closer. And then, suddenly, everything was

alright again.

L

The next morning, Teresa loaded up the wagon with food, and cleaning supplies. Even a broom, since she said

she'd never seen one at Burl's.

Johnny was the one accompanying the girls to Burl's. Charlie was half-sitting on the supplies in the bed of the wagon, and

she spoke up. "The lady at the millinery shop said she would love to have brocade to sell, but that she's never had an

opportunity to offer it-and I was thinking that maybe Burl could sell some of his, and then he'd have some money."

"That's actually a good idea," Teresa approved.

"If the man wants to sell somethin', then he can. He shouldn't need the two of you to tell him so," Johnny commented.

"He's confused, though, Johnny," Charlie protested. "He might not even be thinking of things that way-"

"It's alright, we'll figure it out," Teresa said, sounding determined, and, not for the first time, Charlie felt admiration

for the older girl's pluck and tenacity.

At Burl's, Charlie grabbed the picnic basket full of food, and a handful of the clean rags that Teresa had brought to clean with. She

was at the door of the little shack before Johnny and Teresa were even out of the wagon.

She rapped at the door, but there was no quick answer. Charlie peered thru the window, but could see no old man and no dogs

inside. "I don't see him in there," she told Teresa and Johnny.

"He's probably off somewhere," Teresa said, not seeming concerned. "We'll just go inside and start working."

"Okay," Charlie said, and turned the doorknob. It was unlocked and they went inside.

Johnny set down the heavy box of groceries on the cluttered table. "I don't think it's right, comin' in a man's house when

he's not here," he said, in mild protest.

"Ahh," Teresa said, waving a hand at him.

"I'll tote the rest of the stuff in," Johnny said, and went back outside.

Teresa set to work with a vengeance. She was the undisputed boss of the cleaning expedition. She had Johnny open the only two

windows, which was not an easy feat, since, as Johnny complained, they hadn't seemed to have been opened for years.

"We might as well take down those curtains, too," Teresa told him. "Not that anybody could really call them curtains, anyway-more like

hanging rags."

"Now that's where I draw the line," Johnny protested. "Takin' down a man's curtains-that's not right, Teresa."

"Alright, fine," Teresa dismissed. "I'll figure out some new ones later."

They swept, and washed, and stacked things. They'd been working steadily for over an hour, and still no appearance from

Burl.

"I'll go on out and take a look-see for him," Johnny said.

Charlie had the feeling that Johnny was using it as an excuse to take a break, and get away from Teresa's directives. A few minutes later,

Charlie pushed her hair from her face, feeling hot and sweaty.

"Let's go out and look in the trunks," she suggested.

"Let's wait for Burl to do that," Teresa said.

"Why?"

"I just think we should," Teresa said.

Charlie sighed, but shrugged her shoulders.

"Let's take a break, though," Teresa suggested. "We can have a few of the cookies that Maria packed."

So the girls sat down, to fresh coffee, and coconut macaroon cookies. It felt good to Charlie to put her feet up.

"It's sure a mess 'round here, isn't it?" she said, to Teresa.

"It needed cleaning, for sure."

Charlie nibbled at her cookie, and studied Teresa. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"How come you want to do this? All this work for Burl, I mean?"

"Why shouldn't I want to do it?" Teresa countered.

"I don't know," Charlie said, with shrug. "It's just not something everybody wants to do."

Teresa leaned back in her chair, and chewed at her cookie. "I guess it makes me feel good inside, to help him, in little ways. He

seems like such a lonely old soul."

"I'm glad," Charlie said, and then added, "That you want to help him, I mean."

The two girls shared a smile, and then shortly thereafter, went back to work, cleaning. Dusting, and mopping.

Teresa had made just one pass over the floor, and then had to dump the bucket of water.

"It's filthy already," she said. "I don't think the floor's been mopped in years."

"I'll get another bucket of water," Charlie offered, and once outside, she tossed the dirty water, and went to the pump

to get fresh.

She carried the bucket of clean water back in to Teresa, and then carried some things back to the wagon. The temptation

was great, and she slipped into the shed, going over to the same trunk she'd investigated before. It took a few minutes to

get it opened, and she was careful when she moved the dress aside. She pulled out the jewelry box that had kept her wondering

for the last few weeks.

When she opened it, a song began to play. Charlie didn't recognize the tune, but it was beautiful. There were two rings in

the jewelry box, one a bright green. Beyond that, there were photos, at least three.

Charlie settled onto her knees in the dirt floor, and looked at the photos. One was of a small boy and girl, wearing

outlandishly old-fashioned clothing. They were standing in front of some sort of elaborate church building. The next photo was

of a young man, possibly in his 20's, with his arm around a young girl. The girl was laughing, her head thrown back in joy.

Charlie was just about to study the third photo, when she heard Teresa calling to her.

"Out here!" Charlie called back.

Teresa appeared at the opening of the shed. "I thought we agreed to wait," she said, in mild reproval.

"I just wanted to look," Charlie said. "I'm being very careful."

"Oh, alright," Teresa said, and Charlie could tell that her curiousity was immense, as well.

"Look at the rings," Charlie said, in hushed excitement.

"O my," Teresa said, sitting down beside Charlie, and taking the green ring to look at it.

"Is it a real emerald?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know-I think that it might be," Teresa said, sounding stunned.

"What would that be worth?" Charlie asked.

"A lot-I don't know how much-"

Into their awed silence, Johnny's voice rang out. "Teresa! Charlie!"

Teresa got to her feet and went to the shed opening. "We're here!" she called back.

"What the devil are you two up to?" Johnny demanded, appearing a few moments later.

"We're just having a look," Teresa told.

"Did you find Burl?" Charlie asked, looking up from the rings and photos.

"Yeah. He was traipsin' off in the hills-he says he's hungry. Let's have lunch."

"Alright," Teresa said. "Come on, Charlie."

"Can I bring the ring? To ask him about?" Charlie asked.

"Leave all that stuff where it is," Johnny ordered.

"But, Johnny, we think it's a real emerald!" Charlie said, scrambling to her feet, and taking the ring over to hold

out to him.

Johnny gave the ring a quick perusal, and then said, "Well, leave it for now, and come and eat. He seems real confused today-I

doubt he'll remember much of anything."

Disappointed, Charlie went to put the ring carefully back into the jewelry box. Before she followed Teresa and Johnny inside, though,

she took the two photos, and slipped them into her overall back pocket. If she had the chance, she wanted to ask Burl about

the people in the photos.

Once inside, Burl was sitting in the rocking chair. He was dressed as raggedy as always, and was just rocking, and sipping something

from a dirty cup.

He gave Teresa and Charlie a somewhat blank look, as if he didn't recognize them. Teresa went on to unpack the

lunch from the picnic basket, and began setting the food onto the table.

Charlie went up to stand beside the chair.

"Hello, Burl," she said, in greeting, hoping that he would be less confused if she initiated conversation.

Burl gave Charlie a watery-eyed look, but said only, to Johnny, "Let me have some more of my jug, gun man."

Charlie flicked a look at Johnny. _Gun man?_ Why was he calling Johnny that?

Johnny didn't show any particular resistance to the handle. He went to the corner beside the bed, and pulled up the jug that

Charlie had seen once before, and came over to refill Burl's cup.

"He should be eating, not drinking that," Teresa said, in a low tone.

"Let the man have his drink, Teresa," Johnny said, recorking the jug, and setting it down again.

Instead of sitting around the table, Teresa served Burl a plate of food right there in the rocking chair, and the rest of them

took a seat wherever they found it. Burl ate well, finishing two of Maria's rolls, filled with thick slices of ham, and peaches from

the trees at Lancer. When Charlie had finished her own peach, she kept the pit in her mouth a few moments, letting it roll over

her tongue before she plucked it out, and put it on her plate.

Burl, silent during his meal, finished and then looked up, his eyes now clear. "This old place ain't looked so fine since I first came-all

cleaned up the way it is. Looks just fine." He surveyed the room with obvious pleasure.

"I was thinking I could make you some new curtains," Teresa was saying. "I could get some goods at the mercantile-"

"I reckon I could use a fresh pair of window coverings," Burl said. "No need ta buy any goods, though. I've got plenty

of things 'round here to sew up."

Teresa exchanged looks with Charlie and Johnny, and Charlie knew that she was thinking the brocade wouldn't suit for

curtains.

"Look under the bed, there, girl," Burl told Charlie. "Likely you're the most nimble of the lot of us to do that sort of crawlin'."

He smiled, a rare smile, showing teeth that were black from tobacco.

Charlie wasted no time in going to the bed, and lying down on her stomach to pull out packages from underneath. There were

masses of them. She pushed out brown package after brown package. By the time she was finished, she had to wipe the dust

and cobwebs from her arms.

She and Teresa carried the bundles to the table, and Johnny pushed the basket of food to the side to make room.

Burl got up, stiffly, and then came over to the table. He surveyed the packages, all of different sizes. From large to small. Bulky to

tightly wrapped, all tied with brown string.

"Let's see now," Burl said, running his fingers over the packages. "It's in this one, here-" and he handed a package to

Teresa.

"Do you want me to open it?" Teresa asked him.

"'Course I want ya to open it," the old man responded. "Why else did I have the young one crawl under there to fetch it?'

Teresa pulled at the string that was tied, and then unwrapped the brown paper. Inside there was colorful material. Nothing as

elaborate as brocade, but robins egg blue material.

"That'd make some right nice curtains, wouldn't it?" he asked Teresa.

"Yes. Beautiful curtains," Teresa agreed.

"Right, then. There's some thread and such in that bureau," he said with a gesture.

Teresa went to search thru the bureau, and when Charlie came to look, she saw that the huge deep drawer was filled with

threads, of all colors, and needles, and ribbons. Masses of things. More than at the millinery shop. The two girls exchanged

curious looks. Teresa took out several spools of thread, in blues, and took them over to the old man.

"Fetch my scissors there, girlie," Burl said to Charlie, gesturing, and when Charlie had done that, Burl sat down at the table.

He took the blue material, and then, after eying it, he laid it flat and began to snip at it with his scissors. He cut so fast that

Charlie was in awe.

When he'd finished cutting, he held it up, and then said, "There now, that will work. Will one of you young ones thread my needles

for me? Some days it's too hard for my eyes to manage. Use this thread-"

Teresa threaded a needle, and handed it to him, and they all watched as the old man bent over the blue fabric and began to

stitch. Charlie, who wasn't much inclined to sew herself, still knew that something magical was happening. And, a short few

minutes later, Burl held up the blue material, and showed its transformation from just a piece of material to a delicately stitched

curtain. Or the healthy beginnings of a curtain, anyway.

"Here, now," Burl said, abruptly, laying the material onto the table. "My fingers are tired."

He began to rub at his knarled hands.

"They'll be beautiful," Teresa said. "You're very gifted."

"It was my trade," Burl said.

And, then, for the next thirty or so minutes, Charlie sat still, enthralled, as Burl talked of making fancy dresses for ladies

and ball costumes for high society in pre-famine Ireland. He seemed animated during the story-telling, and Charlie slipped closer,

taking out the photos she was carrying.

"Who are the people in the pictures?" she asked, holding out the two tin types to Burl, as he stood, and made his way back to the rocking chair.

Burl studied them, first the one of the two children. "That's Lettie," he said, his face going soft.

"Who was Lettie?" Charlie prompted.

"Ah, Lettie, she was a fair lass-her hair was the color of wheat in the sunshine-"

Charlie had her mouth opened to ask again, the identity of the two children, but Teresa touched her hand, and shook her

head slightly. "Let him talk," she whispered.

So Burl talked. He talked on and on, telling stories of the beautiful Lettie. Her hair of gold, and her bravery-climbing the

tallest trees, even the trees the boys were too fearful to climb.

The second photo, of the young couple, the laughing girl, well, Burl said that was Lettie, too. He didn't name the young man, but

only went on about the dress that Lettie was wearing in the photo. Pointing out the bow at the waist, and how prideful Lettie had

been of it.

"She wore that dress, even on the moors-she said it wasn't a dress to save-it was a dress to wear, to enjoy-"

Burl talked so long, and then, just as quickly as he'd been spurred to conversation, he became silent, his head dropping as he

fell asleep.

Johnny shook his head slightly, and stood up, packing up the things on the table.

"Leave the rest of the rolls for him," Teresa said, quietly.

Charlie, who'd gathered her favorite pup to hold close during the story-telling, set him down now.

"Let's get things loaded up," Johnny told her.

"We don't have to leave yet, do we?" Charlie protested. "We haven't had a chance to ask him about selling any

of the material or things!"

"We'll see," Johnny said.

The three of them took some more of the cookies left, and sat outside, on the small stoop, with the dogs, while Burl

napped.

"We still don't know who Lettie was," Charlie lamented.

"His first love," Teresa said. "It has to be."

"Maybe that's him in the picture with her," Charlie suggested.

"It didn't look like Burl at all," Johnny objected, and Charlie smiled to herself. Johnny was more intrigued than he

wanted to let on.

L


	65. From the throat of Burl

That evening, after supper had been eaten and then cleared away, the family gathered in the library. Murdoch read from

the newspaper, articles about current events. Charlie sat, cross-legged on the floor, listening. She loved listening

to Murdoch read aloud. She didn't really understand everything that he was reading about, but she did some of it.

After Murdoch had laid the newspaper aside, the family talked of other things, in particular, of Burl.

"It sounds as though you gave his place a good going over," Murdoch said, smiling at Teresa and Charlie.

"We did," Teresa said, sounding satisfied.

Charlie told Murdoch about the green emerald ring, and Scott remarked how it was asking for trouble, having

valuable things left in a trunk accessible they way that these were.

"It's a wonder he hasn't been robbed before now," Johnny said.

Into the coziness of the family circle, Charlie said, "The lady at the café called Burl a reprobate."

"Ah," Murdoch said, with a nod.

"It says in the dictionary that it means a person is a scoundrel, a good-for-nothing," Charlie said. She pulled her knees up to her

chin, and wrapped her arms around them.

"Just because somebody says it, doesn't make it so," Johnny said, and Charlie gave him a dimpled smile, grateful. She knew that

Johnny really liked the old man!

"It also says that a reprobate is 'predestined for damnation'," Charlie added.

"Charlie," Teresa said, in mild censure.

"It does," Charlie protested.

"The kid can't help it if that's what the dictionary says," Johnny told Teresa, looking amused.

After giving Johnny another smile, Charlie looked around at the adults.

"Murdoch, you don't think that, do you?" she asked.

"Think what, darling?"

"That Burl is those things-a good-for-nothing, and predestined for damnation?"

Murdoch swirled the remaining bourbon in his glass. "I think he's one-of-a-kind. But, no, I don't think those things of him."

"I'm glad," Charlie said, hugging her legs.

"He's so gifted," Teresa said. "He sat there at the table, and in just a few minutes, he created something. Curtains, yes, but

I would have loved to see some of the other things he's made. The ball gowns, and all the lovely dresses-"

"Why are his fingers so knotted?" Charlie asked. She remembered suddenly that the man in Stockton, who'd used to sleep in the

park, had had fingers like Burl's.

"Likely it's arthritis," Scott told her.

"Harland suffers with that, doesn't he?" Murdoch asked, referring to Scott's grandfather, and Scott nodded.

"I've heard it's very, very painful," Teresa said.

"What about the things in the trunks?" Murdoch asked. "Did he agree to try to sell some of the brocade?"

"No," Teresa said, sounding frustrated. "When we suggested it, he said that he might need it sometime. He said he doesn't need any

ready money. That he has everything he needs."

"Maybe if he knew he might get thrown out by the man who owns the property, then he would sell it," Charlie suggested.

"Maybe so," Teresa agreed. "He just seemed so confused after his nap, it didn't seem the right time to tell him about the owner."

"No. He likely wouldn't have comprehended what you were saying," Murdoch agreed.

"It's hard to be patient," Charlie complained.

"With someone like Burl, and the confusion that he suffers from, patience is really the only option, darling," Murdoch told her.

"I guess so," Charlie said, with a sigh.

The clock struck eight, and Scott told Charlie to go upstairs and get ready for bed.

"It's Saturday night-" Charlie said, giving him a hopeful look.

"Is it?" Scott asked, and then looked at Johnny and Teresa and added teasingly, "How about that? Did you two know it

was Saturday night?"

"Seems I heard somethin' like that," Johnny said, going along with the joking.

"Can't I stay up awhile longer?" Charlie asked, thinking the joking was a good indication.

"No, kiddo. Head on upstairs," Scott said.

Charlie sighed, but got to her feet, and went to give Murdoch a goodnight hug. Then, Johnny, and then, Teresa.

L

The next morning, the family readied for church services. Not Johnny. He, as was common on Sunday mornings, was occupied

elsewhere.

At breakfast, Teresa suggested, over a drink of her orange juice, that they go out to Burl's place before church to check on him

again.

Murdoch agreed to that, and Charlie, helping to stack the plates, looked up to say eagerly,

"Maybe he'd like to go to church with us!"

The adults at the table exchanged glances between them, and Murdoch said, "I don't know about that, darling-"

"Why?" Charlie asked.

"I'm not certain that Burl would be comfortable with that," Murdoch said.

"Why not?" Charlie asked, again, perplexed.

"Well," Murdoch said, looking to Scott, "He might feel awkward."

Thinking that Murdoch meant because some of the townspeople were not overly fond of Burl, Charlie said, "He can sit with

us, though, and that way nobody will say anything to him that they shouldn't."

"Well-" Murdoch began again, and then he paused in his speaking.

"I think Murdoch means that Burl might be uncomfortable because he doesn't have any Sunday clothes to wear," Scott told Charlie.

"Oh," Charlie said, pausing to consider that.

And then, she spoke up again, and, by her words, caused all three adults at the table to pause in thought.

"I mean, God doesn't care what a person is wearing, does he?" Charlie asked.

Another look exchanged between the three adults, and then Murdoch gave a sigh. "You're right about that, darling."

"Can he come with us, then?" Charlie asked.

"We'll see," Scott said, as he stood up, and pushed in his chair. "If he wants to come, then he's more than welcome."

Murdoch and Teresa rode in the buggy, while Charlie rode behind Scott on horseback, She found she much preferred

wearing her denims or overalls while horseback, as opposed to the cumbersome petticoats and dress.

"I wish dresses had never been invented," she grumbled, shifting to try and tuck her dress under.

"When you're older, you won't feel that way," Scott told her.

"Everybody says that," Charlie said. "But, I don't know what difference that's going to make."

"You'll see," Scott said.

At Burl's shack, the dogs on the porch stoop stood up at their arrival. Only one barked.

"I'll go to the door," Murdoch said, handing the reins to Teresa, and getting to the ground.

He went to the door and knocked, and, then when the door opened, Burl stood there, rifle in hand.

Not just rifle in hand, but actually pointed to shoot. Charlie caught her breath, but Murdoch didn't seem alarmed.

"What you wantin' here?" the old man demanded, shaking his rifle a bit. Charlie felt Scott tense a bit, as if ready to assist.

"It's Murdoch Lancer, Burl," Murdoch said, calmly, just as if Burl was greeting him with a smile, and not a rifle.

Burl seemed to take Murdoch's face in for the first time, and, in apparent recognition, lowered the rifle a bit.

"Well, come on in," Burl said, and peered outside. "The lot of ya, come on in," he invited.

"We're on our way into church services," Murdoch said. "We'd like to invite you to come with us."

Burl reached up to scratch at his head with one hand. "Church?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Please join us," Teresa called out.

"I got no fancy duds to wear," Burl said.

"That doesn't matter!" Teresa called. "Come as you are!"

"Just a minute, now," Burl said, and disappeared back inside the shack. Murdoch stood where he was, shaking his head to

show that he didn't know, when Teresa asked what Burl was doing.

When ten minutes or more had passed, Murdoch called inside the shack that he was going to wait in the buggy.

They all waited but five more minutes, and Burl appeared, closing the door behind him as he came towards the buggy.

He'd slicked his sparse hair down with water, and had changed his clothes. Wearing now, a pair of gray pants, and a suit coat, he looked

very unlike Burl. At least Charlie thought so. She wondered where he'd had these clothes stored at in the shack.

"Good mornin' to ya," he said, in greeting to Scott and Charlie, as he walked by.

"Good morning," Scott returned.

"Good morning, Burl," Charlie said, and smiled at the old man.

Burl hitched himself up into the buggy with a surprising spryness, while Teresa scooted over to make room. Riding with Scott as she was,

Charlie couldn't hear everything that the three in the buggy were talking about, but she was happy. She gave Scott a squeeze around

his waist. "I hope everyone at church is nice to Burl," she told Scott.

"If they're inside of a church, I'd sure hope that they would be," Scott said.

"That Alice lady wouldn't be," Charlie said. "Even in church, she'll find a way to insult Burl."

"Let's not assume the worst of her," Scott said.

L

At the church, as they were walking towards the doorway, Burl walked between Scott and Murdoch, while Charlie and

Teresa walked behind. The shocked and curious expressions of a few of the other church-goers were obvious, though they spoke as

usual in greeting. Burl stumbled a bit on the church steps, and Murdoch put a hand on his elbow, to steady him.

Once they were sitting in their customary pew, Charlie was smoothing her skirts when she looked across the aisle to

see John and Monte both staring, wide-eyed, at the sight of Burl.

She narrowed her eyes at Monte, which was enough to have him turning back towards the front. _Monte really wasn't so bad,_

 _now._ John, on the other hand, was less easily cowed. He continued to twist in the pew and stare.

Charlie glared even harder, and gave a nod of her head, indicating that John should turn 'round and face forward, and

mind his own darn business.

John pulled a face at Charlie, apparently feeling brave since he was sitting beside his mother, and not his father.

Charlie put on her most ferocious face, stopping just short of sticking out her tongue at John.

That was, until Scott turned and caught her at the exchange with John.

"Quit," he ordered, really low, but firmly. Charlie felt her face get hot in embarrassment.

Scott turned his glance to John, then, and there must have been enough of a deterrent in it to cause John to turn

around, since that's what he did. Scott gave her another look, as well, and Charlie lifted her shoulders in a light shrug, hoping

he wouldn't say any more to her.

There was singing to open the service, and then the sermon began. It was, at least to Charlie, as long and as dull as

usual. Charlie kept taking quick looks over Teresa to Burl, to see how he was taking in the sermon. She was amused to

see that he looked to be nearly nodding off to sleep. When the sermon was finally over, the congregation stood to sing

again. "Bringing in the Sheaves" was the hymn that was chosen.

When the singing began, a unheard-of-before voice joined, and then, rose above others. Rising up, it was a magical sound,

strong and vibrant, and Charlie stopped singing herself just to hear it. She wasn't the only one who was surprised.

Many were, turning to look, not in derision now, but in awe, of the enormous and magnificent sound coming from the throat of the little man.

L

Later that day, after the few chores that were done on Sundays had been completed, and a cold supper enjoyed,

the family gathered in the library.

"Who would have ever thought that Burl had such a wonderful singing voice?" Teresa mused.

"Amazing," Murdoch agreed.

"His church clothes were old-fashioned," Teresa said. "I wonder how long it's been since he wore them."

"He's full of surprises, alright," Scott said.

"He's sort of like an onion," Charlie said, from where she sat on the floor, her legs curled to one side, and with one

arm resting on Johnny's knee.

"How in the world is he like an onion?" Teresa said.

"Well, he keeps coming up with things that he can do, like in layers," Charlie said. "Like sew, and sing. It makes me wonder what else he

is able to do so well."

"An onion is a good description, darling," Murdoch said.

"There's somethin' odd about him, though," Johnny said.

"Well, we all know he's odd," Teresa said. "He's quirky-"

"I don't mean like that," Johnny said. "I mean, there's somethin' deeper-it's like he has a sixth sense, or somethin'."

"How's that, son?" Murdoch asked.

"He knows things-it's just peculiar," Johnny said.

"What sort of things?" Murdoch asked.

Charlie thought she knew what Johnny meant. She remembered, early on, when she and Johnny had gone to Burl's, and he'd said

odd things to Johnny. Things like how it hadn't been Johnny's fault that he couldn't open a door, and that he hadn't been meant to see.

She waited to hear if Johnny was going to talk about it. But, Johnny only shook his head slightly, and said, "Aw, I'm just bein' foolish. He's

just a curious old coot."

L


	66. Boys

The next morning didn't start off as well as the evening before had ended. As Charlie was in the kitchen, collecting her lunch pail for school

from Maria, Scott appeared, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee from the pot on the stove.

"Home right after school today," he told Charlie. "Whether it lets out early or not, you head home, alright?"

He wasn't really asking. Charlie knew that full well.

She stood, looking up at Scott, feeling a bit let down. She'd thought that after the talking-to he'd given her Friday

afternoon, that was all there was to it. The weekend had been so fun, and interesting, what with going to Burl's on Saturday,

and then the unexpectedness of Burl's singing at church. And now, Monday morning, and she discovered that Scott

was still thinking about Friday afternoon.

"I thought you weren't angry at me anymore," Charlie protested.

"I'm not."

Charlie looked at him, her forehead wrinkled.

Instead of saying anything more about it, Scott said, "Have a good day, and I'll see you later."

Charlie nodded. "Okay."

Scott took his coffee and left the kitchen. Charlie picked up her lunch pail, and grumbled to herself. It wasn't that she knew of

anything special happening after school. It was just that-well, she didn't know, exactly!

 _"Debes obedecer,"_ Maria said.

Charlie flicked a glance at Maria. She had no idea what Maria had said.

"Obey Senor Scott," Maria said.

Okay. That she knew. Obey Mr. Scott.

"I will," Charlie protested, feeling misunderstood. Why did Maria have to add her say-so to this?

Maria went back to her dish washing, and Charlie turned to go, pausing at the back door long enough to say, "I never said I

wasn't going to obey him."

 _"Carlota,"_ Maria said, and Charlie turned back.

Maria looked formidable for a long moment, and then came over to take Charlie's chin in her hand.

" _Traviesa,"_ Maria said.

Charlie knew that word. Maria had said it to her a time or two before.

"I'm not being naughty," Charlie protested.

" _Si,"_ Maria said, in disagreement.

Charlie gave the housekeeper a mutinous look. Or as mutinous as she dared to. The older woman's dark eyes seemed to

sear into her.

Maria lowered her hand, and then gave a nod to Charlie. "School," she said.

Charlie went out, letting the door flap closed behind her.

Jelly had Gurth all saddled and ready to go. Charlie took the reins from him, and mounted.

"How's about some help pickin' the last of those peaches when you get home?" Jelly said, looking up at her.

"Maybe so," Charlie said. She was still thinking about Maria. And Scott.

"Maybe so, is it?" Jelly expostulated.

Scott was coming out of the back door now, walking with Johnny. Johnny called out a goodbye to her, and Charlie

waved at him. Impulsively, Charlie rode Gurth over to Scott.

"Scott?" she said, as she rode closer, and he stopped walking to look at her.

"Forget something?" he asked, slipping his fingers thru Gurth's bridle.

"No. I wanted to ask you-" she hesitated.

"Ask me what?"

"Is it a punishment? That I have to come home right after school today?" Charlie asked seriously.

Scott looked just as serious. "No. It's not meant as a punishment, Charlie. I think you need to come straight home

for a few days, though. To help you remember the rules."

"Oh," Charlie said. She nibbled at her lower lip.

"You'd better start heading in. You don't want to be tardy for school," Scott said. He smiled at Charlie, and it made her

feel a little better.

L

At recess time, Charlie was glad to escape outdoors. The inside of the school had seemed stifling with heat, and no

breeze. Outside, at least, there was some relief.

She was playing a game of jump rope with some of the other girls, and was taking her turn at twirling one end, while

Rebecca held the other end, and Annie jumped in the middle.

John wandered over closer, followed by Billy Joe Thornton. Charlie didn't much like Billy Joe. He was a nuisance, much

like John was. And sometimes, he was just mean to the really little kids.

Today, he was full of bluster. "How'd you get the old man to come to church?" he asked.

"He wanted to come," Charlie said, simply.

"Did he take his glass eye out to show ya?" Billy Joe asked.

"He doesn't have a glass eye," Charlie said.

"Sure, he does. Everybody knows that."

"Well, everybody's wrong," Charlie said, still turning the rope, as Annie jumped.

"He sure looked funny in them clothes he was wearin'," John said.

Inside Charlie simmered. She thought of something that Johnny sometimes said. 'You can't fix stupid'.

Annie had jumped to fifteen and jumped out of the rope, and Charlie and Rebecca stopped turning it to rest.

"My Ma says it's a sin, comin' in to the church drunk," Billy Joe went on.

"He wasn't drunk," Charlie said, indignantly.

"I saw him stumble, right there on the front steps-if it hadn't been for Murdoch Lancer he would have fallen

flat on his face. That's what my Ma says."

"He just stumbled. He wasn't drunk," Charlie said, giving Billy Joe a narrow-eyed glare.

"Yeah. You know that for a fact, right?" Billy Joe taunted. "Cause he's your best friend, ain't that so?"

In a sudden flurry of anger, Charlie turned and gave Billy Joe a hard push against his chest. Surprised, ( _Billy Joe would later_

 _maintain that he just plain wasn't expecting it, or he would never have been toppled over by a mere girl),_ Billy Joe

fell to the ground, smack-dab on his rear end. He was startled, that was plain enough. But, not so startled that he didn't jump right

up, his fists clenched at his side.

"Darn you, Charlie!" he hissed.

Surprised, even at her own self, Charlie stood there, contemplating. She wasn't sorry. But, she didn't want the fracas that would

surely accompany this, with Miss Susan, and Scott, and oh, everything.

She took a deep breath, and said, "You shouldn't talk about things that you know nothing about, Billy Joe."

"I've lived 'round here for five years!" Billy Joe shouted. "How long you been here? Huh? I guess I know plenty more

than you about what goes on 'round here!"

Miss Susan came out, ringing the bell to signal the children back inside for lessons.

Billy Joe stepped closer and hissed, "If you weren't a girl, I'd fix you good."

L

Jason and Rebecca walked with Charlie after school to the stable to collect Gurth. Charlie was glad of the company,

though she knew Jason did it because he thought Billy Joe might actually make good on his threat, even if Charlie _was_ a girl.

Once on Gurth, and after saying her goodbyes to Jason and Rebecca, Charlie started for home. She wasn't really surprised when

she saw Billy Joe and his brother, Bobby, ahead of her a bit on the road.

Charlie sighed. It wasn't that she was frightened, really. She could hold her own in a scrap, she thought, even if it was

against a boy. Still, there were two of them, and they were both bigger than she was.

She considered galloping past them on Gurth so fast that they wouldn't be able to catch her. She also considered

going back into town to tell Mr. Val what was going on. But, then she scolded herself. What had happened to her? She'd used

to be so tough. Now, at the first sign of real trouble, she wanted to run to Mr. Val. Nope. She would face this head on. On her own.

Charlie rode up slowly, as both boys approached her from each side. Bravely, Charlie pulled Gurth to a halt.

"You two had better not try anything," Charlie said, with bravado.

"We're not gonna hurt a _girl,"_ Billy Joe said, in derision.

Charlie thought about saying that it was she who had landed him on his behind earlier in the day, but she decided to

keep quiet.

"Then what do you want?" Charlie asked, still cautious.

"Information."

"Information about what?" Charlie asked.

"About the old man."

Charlie eyed Billy Joe warily, not trusting.

"Yeah," Bobby said, from the other side of Gurth. "We wanna know what he looks like when he's sleepin'."

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asked.

"Well," Bobby said, "What we wanna know is-how spooky is it when he has one eye closed, and the glass eye open,

while he's sleepin'?"

The two boys hooted as if Bobby had said something simply hilarious.

Charlie gave them both a frosty look, and then, while they were still laughing, she urged Gurth into a trot, and

rode on.

L

At the ranch, Charlie untacked her horse, rubbed him down, and turned him out for water. Jelly was out in the orchard, atop

a ladder, picking the peaches.

She went into the house, thru the front door, avoiding the kitchen and Maria. She changed from her school clothes, and

went outside to do her chores. When she had the eggs gathered, there was no choice but to take them inside. Charlie went

into the kitchen, which was amazingly cool. She set the eggs down, as usual, and Maria turned from her vigorous stirring.

"Gracias," Maria said, and then she took a plate which had three cookies on it and held it out to Charlie. Her smile was

kind, and Charlie took the plate. She washed at the sink, and then sat, eating her cookies.

Johnny came in, wiping at his forehead with his sleeve. "Whoo, it's hot out," he said.

He went to take a cookie from the cookie jar, and sat down at the table next to Charlie. Maria went out the back door

with her basket to take the laundry from the clothesline.

"How was school?" Johnny asked Charlie.

"Okay," Charlie said.

"Yeah? You don't sound too sure of it."

"Boys are stupid," Charlie said, with finality.

Johnny looked amused. "Even me?"

"Not you," Charlie told him. "And not some others-like Jason, but mostly they are."

"Which boy got on your wrong side today?"

"Billy Joe Thornton. And his brother, Bobby."

"What happened?" Johnny asked.

"They were making fun of Burl. The clothes he was wearing at church, and things. And talking about him having a

glass eye. And Billy Joe said that he was drunk at church, and that's why he stumbled on the front steps, and Murdoch

had to help him."

Johnny raised his eyebrow a bit, and said, "Whoo, that's a load, right there."

Charlie nibbled at her cookie, and nodded.

"When folks don't understand somethin', sometimes they get stupid," Johnny said.

"And you can't fix stupid, right?" Charlie said, repeating his quote.

"Not usually," Johnny said, with a grin.

Charlie surveyed Johnny for a long few moments, and then admitted, "I pushed Billy Joe."

"You did?"

"Yeah. He fell on his backside."

Johnny chuckled. "I'll bet he was surprised."

L

There was an unexpected break for school that week. Miss Susan's mother was still ill, and no substitute could be found to

take over the teaching. So, Wednesday thru Friday were free days. Charlie was glad. She liked school, for the most part, but

sometimes it got tiresome, to always be cooped up inside the schoolhouse.

On Wednesday, in the late afternoon, Scott had to go into town to send a telegram. He'd talked about it, at the

breakfast table, and Charlie caught him afterwards, to ask if she could go along with him.

"Have you finished the schoolwork you were behind on?" Scott asked, looking serious. He'd discovered the two

days of handwriting that Charlie had not completed. He'd not been pleased.

"Yes, Scott."

"Alright. You can come along with me."

As a compromise, Charlie changed her clothes before they left. She was enjoying not having to wear a dress for these days

off of school, but she'd gotten her overalls dirty during the morning activities. She washed her face and hands, and brushed the

snarls from her hair. She redressed, in clean denim pants and a brown blouse, and then put her boots back on.

They rode horseback to town, and Charlie, as she usually did when she got the chance to have Scott to herself,

found it very enjoyable. Once in town, Scott went to send his telegram, and collected the mail, putting it into his

saddle bags. He took Charlie to the café, for a piece of pie. Charlie was relieved to not see Alice about anywhere.

Preparing to head for the ranch once again, Charlie was pleased when, without even saying so, or having Charlie wheedle, Scott

turned to take the road to Burl's.

She gave Scott a smile in thank you.

"Maybe, if he wants us to, can we stay for supper?" Charlie asked.

"We'll see."

As they approached the shack, from some distance away, Charlie could see the two wagons sitting in the yard. There were

men coming and going, in and out of the shack. Another man was readying up the window, using a hammer to reattach the trim

around the small window.

"Who are they?" Charlie asked Scott, though she knew he had no answer.

Scott didn't answer right then. They rode up into the yard, and Charlie said, "Scott?" feeling worried.

"Hold on. We'll see what's happening," Scott said, sounding calm enough.

In the yard, one of the men toting things to the wagon, his arms full of the brown packages from under Burl's bed,

paused, looking at them.

"Howdy," he said, in greeting.

"Howdy," Scott returned.

"Somethin' I can do for ya?" the man asked Scott.

"We're looking for Burl," Scott said.

"The old man who was here?"

"That's right," Scott verified.

"He's gone off someplace, I don't know where."

Scott shifted in the saddle, looking around. "Well, what's going on?"

"The owner wants this place cleaned up. That's what's going on."

Charlie took in a horrified breath. It had happened! Burl had been thrown out!

She moved Gurth closer to Scott's horse.

"The owner, huh?" Scott asked, still looking around.

"That's right." The man went to toss Burl's packages into the back of the nearest wagon.

"What about the old man? What happens to him?" Scott asked.

"I don't know nothin' about that part of it. I was hired to get it cleaned up 'round here. That's all."

Charlie was truly frightened now. Where had Burl gone?

Charlie reached her hand out to touch Scott's arm. "Scott-" she said.

Scott patted Charlie's knee, without saying anything to her.

"What about his personal things?" Scott was asking then.

"We was told to take them all to the sheriff's office and leave 'em there," the man answered.

"Where's this owner at right now?" Scott asked.

"He's in town, staying with some kinfolk."

"Do you know their name? The kinfolk?"

The man hesitated, looking thoughtful, and scratching at his head. "I don't recall it. He generally gets ahold of us when he

needs to talk to us."

"Alright. Thank you," Scott said, and the man nodded, and turned to head back into the shack.

"What about the dogs, Scott?" Charlie asked, in a panicked tone.

"You see any dogs while you were here?" Scott called out, and the man turned again to face them.

"Some big ones, yeah. They went off with the old man."

"What about the puppies, inside?" Charlie asked.

"There's a couple of 'em still in there. Gettin' underfoot of all of us, and being a nuisance," the man said.

Charlie gave Scott a pleading look. She would have begged right then, but she couldn't seem to swallow past the lump in

her throat enough to speak.

"We'll take the pups out of your way," Scott said, and, as the man nodded, Charlie's heart soared.

"I'll get the pups," Scott told Charlie, as she made ready to dismount Gurth to go inside. "You stay put."

He handed off his reins to Charlie, and she sat, obediently, atop Gurth, waiting, as he strode across the yard, and into

the open door of the shack. When he came back out again, carrying a wriggling puppy in each arm, Charlie thought he looked

like a hero. She resolved to be good, all the time, forever after, and never cause Scott any worry or annoyance. It was the least he

deserved, she thought.

L

Scott handed up one of the pups to Charlie, who took it joyfully. It was the puppy that was her favorite. Scott remounted, holding

the other dog, and they turned, riding away from the shack. Charlie couldn't resist turning back to look again, at the men moving

all of Burl's things into a wagon.

"What are you going to do?" Charlie asked. And she meant it just that way. What was _he_ going to do? She was just a little girl,

and she didn't see what she could feasibly do about this horrible situation. It needed an adult. Someone with a mighty brain, and

courage to match.

"We'll ride back into town, and go see Val."

"To see if he knows about it?" Charlie asked.

"Right."

"Mr. Val said he can't do anything, though, if it's a legal deed," Charlie reminded him.

"We'll see."

Usually, when Scott said that, 'we'll see', it frustrated Charlie, because it didn't seem to be any sort of an answer. But now, for

some unknown reason, hearing him say it seemed to give some comfort to Charlie. Scott would take care of things.

L


	67. Onward

At the sidewalk in front of Val's office, they dismounted, and Scott handed off the puppy he'd been carrying to Charlie.

"Why don't you stay out here with the pups?" he suggested.

Charlie gathered the wriggling balls of fur up close and gave Scott a beseeching glance. She'd just made the vow to herself

to behave, not to be argumentative, or contrary. But, darn, she wanted to go inside the jail, too, to hear what Val had to say!

Scott paused, turning back, and gave her another quick look. "Alright, come on inside," he said, shortly, and Charlie moved

quickly to obey and follow him.

Val was sitting, his feet propped up on the desk, whittling at a piece of wood.

"Hey, there," he said, in greeting, taking his feet from the desk.

"Hey, Val," Scott said.

"What have you got there?" Val asked, getting to his feet and coming around the desk to stand beside Charlie, and

petting one of the pups.

"They're Burl's puppies," Charlie burst out. "We had to take them!"

Val exchanged a look with Scott over the top of Charlie's head. "Is that so?" Val asked.

"Yes!" Charlie said, winding up to fill Val in.

"Charlie, go find something to put some water in," Scott said. "I bet the pups are thirsty."

"Okay," Charlie said, and Val told her there was a bowl she could use. Charlie put the puppies down, and went

off to fetch the bowl, and then poured water from the pitcher that Val kept near the gun cabinet. She set it down, and

both pups came to drink greedily.

Scott was telling Val about what had taken place at Burl's shack, and Charlie stood up from the puppies, waiting anxiously,

to hear what Val said.

"Blaine's his name," Val was saying. "Charles, I think it is. He was in here, this morning. Has the deed and all."

Charlie felt her heart sink. She'd held out hope, that somehow, it was all a big mistake, or something.

One of the puppies came to sniff at her boot, and Charlie leaned down to pick him up, snuggling him for comfort.

"What about Burl, though?" she asked, in a small voice.

Both men turned to look at her, and Charlie saw that there was regret on both of their faces.

"Well, sweetheart, Burl has no claim to the property, not that I can make out, anyway," Val said. "He'll have to find

another place to live, unless this fellow, Blaine, agrees to let him keep stayin' there."

"Can you ask him if he'll do that?" Charlie pleaded.

"I did do that," Val told her. "This morning, when he came in here, waving his papers around at me."

"But he said no?" Charlie asked then, afraid to hear the answer.

"I doubt if Burl could pay the rent that he's going to ask every month."

Charlie came to stand beside Scott, feeling hopeful again. "If Burl sells some of the brocade, then he'd have money

to pay the rent! Right, Scott?"

"What's this about brocade?" Val asked, before Scott could answer Charlie.

Scott told Val briefly about the contents of the trunks in Burl's shed.

"And I talked to the lady at the millinery shop, and she said she would buy some of it to sell!" Charlie said, triumphantly,

still snuggling the puppy.

"You did, huh?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. On Friday, when I was with Rebecca," Charlie said swiftly. "I hadn't had a chance to tell you about it yet."

Both of the men were looking at her as though taking her measure, and Charlie said, "Teresa thinks it's a great idea!"

They went back to talking about the shack then, and the men working there.

"They're bringing Burl's things here, they said," Scott said.

"Right. I'll put all of it in one of the cells-" Val said. "Keep it for him until he can figure something out."

"I thought I might go and take a look around for Burl," Scott was saying. "See if he's up in the hills behind the shack."

"I'll come along with you," Val said. "I'll get Dan to come over and sit here while the men are bringing the wagon of stuff in."

"Alright. I'm going to take Charlie home first," Scott said. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Can't I go with you to look for him?" Charlie asked, distressed.

"No," Scott said. That was all. Just 'No'. "Come on," he said, ushering Charlie out.

Outside, beside the horses, Scott untied them from the hitching post, and then took one of the pups from

Charlie. They both mounted, and began riding.

"What if you can't find Burl?" Charlie asked.

"We'll look until we do," Scott said.

He sounded definite and Charlie took comfort in that.

L

After Scott had deposited Charlie and the two pups at the ranch, filled Murdoch in on what was happening, and

loaded some sandwiches that Maria packed up, he set out again. Charlie stood outside, cuddling one of the pups, watching

him disappear into the distance.

Murdoch appeared beside her, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Come inside and have your supper," Murdoch said.

"I'm worried, Murdoch," Charlie said, still looking at Scott's figure in the long distance.

"I know, darling," Murdoch said, sounding regretful.

"If Scott does find Burl, where will he stay tonight? I forgot to ask."

"He'll bring Burl here," Murdoch said, sounding certain, and Charlie swung her brown eyes up to his face.

"He will? Is that what he said?"

"No. I just know that he will, if he needs to."

"Burl can have my room-" Charlie began.

"That won't be necessary. We'll figure it all out. Now, come inside and have your supper."

The puppies were shut in the kitchen, while Murdoch, Teresa and Charlie ate their supper in the dining room.

They washed the dishes, and then took the puppies to the library, where Charlie and Teresa both sat on the floor

with them.

As it began to get dusky outside, Charlie went to the window to look out.

"Try not to worry," Teresa said.

"It's dumb to think I won't worry," Charlie said, without thinking.

"Charlie," Murdoch said, and Charlie turned to look, and saw his frown. "There's no reason for you to be rude."

"I'm sorry, Teresa," Charlie said, and she was.

"It's alright," the older girl said. "It was a silly thing to say." She stood up. "I'll go up and make sure there are clean

sheets on the bed in the spare room."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Murdoch told her.

After that, the pups went to sleep on the rug, and Charlie sat with Murdoch in the large chair, in the quiet of the room.

As the room darkened even more, Murdoch said, "We can read for a bit. I'll light the lamp."

"Can we just sit here?" Charlie asked him.

"If that's what you want."

"I wish Johnny would come."

"He'll be along soon."

"If Burl comes here tonight, can he stay for awhile? Like a few weeks?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know what's going to happen, darling. We'll have to see."

Charlie turned her head to look up into his face, not totally clear in the duskiness of the room.

"What about the puppies? Can they stay? You need a good dog or two here at Lancer. They can be

protection," she said.

"We'll see what happens with the puppies as well," Murdoch said, noncommittal. And, then, he gave Charlie a gentle

push and stood up, going to light the lamps.

"Let's find a box and some blankets for the pups to sleep," Murdoch said.

"I could keep them in my room," Charlie said, hopefully.

"A warm box in the kitchen will be better," Murdoch said, sounding firm.

L

Charlie was determined to stay awake until Scott came home, hopefully with Burl in tow. After Murdoch had tucked her

into her bed, she went so far as to get out of it again, and move to the window seat. She covered herself up with the quilt, and

stayed sitting up. That was more conducive, she thought, to knowing when Scott returned.

Try as she did, though, she slipped into sleep, and was only awakened when she felt she was being lifted, and put

back into her bed.

The only light was that coming in from the hallway, and Charlie could only see Scott's profile.

"Scott?" she said, sleepily.

"Yes, kiddo."

"Did you find Burl?"

Scott laid her on her bed, and covered her with the quilt.

"Yes. We found him."

"Did you bring him here?" she asked.

"No. But's he alright. He's safe."

His hand brushed her hair. "Go back to sleep."

L

When Charlie woke the next morning, she could tell it was later than was usual for her to get up. Even on a day without school. She

dressed hastily and tore down the stairs, but the only person still sitting at the breakfast table was Teresa.

"Good morning," Teresa said, turning another page of the newspaper she was reading.

"Morning," Charlie returned. "Is everyone gone out already?"

"Mostly. I think Murdoch is still around somewhere."

"Darn it," Charlie muttered. "Why did I have to oversleep for?!"

"Scott said to leave you be, and let you rest," Teresa said. "Sit down and eat."

Charlie slid into her customary chair at the table. "What happened last night? What did Scott say? Why didn't he

bring Burl here?" She began to scoop eggs onto her plate.

Teresa began to fold up the newspaper. "He said they found him up in the hills, and that he had his rifle with him, and he'd shot

three rabbits. And that he was thirsty and scratched up."

"Scratched up, why?" Charlie demanded.

"I don't know. Thorns, I guess. So they took him to town, and to Val's office."

"Why didn't he come here-" Charlie interrupted.

"Will you just listen for a minute?" Teresa said, sounding impatient, and Charlie subsided, taking a bite of her eggs.

"Val was going to watch him there at the jail, and then have the doctor come 'round again to examine him sometime this morning."

"For the scratches?" Charlie asked.

"I think more because Burl was so confused. Scott said his confusion was really prominent last night."

"Oh," Charlie said, thinking as she chewed.

After a few minutes of silence at the table, Charlie said, "Well, where is he supposed to go tonight to stay?"

"I don't know," Teresa said, sounding regretful.

"Why can't he come here to stay for awhile?" Charlie asked. "I asked, but-" she hesitated. "They act strange about it-like

they don't really want Burl here for more than a couple of days."

"It's not that at all," Teresa reproved. "You shouldn't think that."

"Well, what is it, then?" Charlie persisted.

"They're being cautious. Because he's so unpredictable."

Quiet again, and then Charlie said, impulsively, "Let's go to town!"

When Teresa looked up, Charlie went on. "We can go see Burl, and maybe we could take him out to lunch! I have some of

my allowance saved. And then, if his trunks are there at the jail, we might be able to go thru them, and convince him to

sell something!"

"I have some things I have to get done here-" Teresa began. "Maria isn't coming today-"

"I'll help you! Right now, and then when we get back! Please, Teresa?"

"I'll see what Murdoch thinks," Teresa said, and though she wanted to protest, Charlie refrained, and, instead,

began to pick up the breakfast dishes.

"I'll clear the table," she said.

Teresa went off in search of Murdoch, and the suspense was entirely too much for Charlie to bear. She stacked the dishes,

and then went, to stand silently just beyond the library door, so as to be able to hear the conversation.

She could hear Teresa outlining the plan for visiting Burl, even mentioning the lunch.

"I'm sure Val would enjoy a break from Burl, by the time we get there," Teresa said.

"No doubt he would," Murdoch said. "But, I don't want you having to attempt to keep Burl under control. If he's as

disorientated as Scott said he was last night, he's likely too much for you to handle. No telling what he'll take it into his

head to do."

"Well, we could bring lunches over to the jail, then," Teresa said.

Teresa heard Murdoch sigh, and when she peeked into the room, she saw him leaning back in the chair behind his desk, while

Teresa half-sat on the desk in front of him.

"And, if he's seems better today, then we might be able to choose some brocade to sell," Teresa was saying.

"I'm thinking there might be a better time to do that," Murdoch said.

Charlie took a couple of steps into the doorway. "He doesn't have _time,_ though, Murdoch," she protested.

As Murdoch and Teresa both gave her their attention, Murdoch's eyebrows drew together.

"And have you been standing there listening the entire time, young lady?" he asked.

"Not the _whole_ entire time, No, Sir," Charlie said.

"Well, come in," he told her, and Charlie came to the other side of the desk, so that he was between she and Teresa, in his chair.

"What is it you have to say?" Murdoch asked Charlie.

"He doesn't have time, really, because he has no where to go," Charlie said. "If he'd only just sell even a little, he'd have

money to have a place to live."

"He's not going to be homeless, darling. He can stay here for a few days, if necessary, or he can stay at the jail."

"He shouldn't have to stay at the jail, though," Charlie protested.

"She's right," Teresa said. "If he has funds, there's no reason he couldn't have his own place. Someplace better, even, than that

old shack."

"Yes!" Charlie said, with enthusiasm, looking at Murdoch pleadingly.

"Alright," he said. "You two go on along into town. See what you can get done with the old fellow."

"Yay!" Charlie said, as Teresa smiled, and leaned forward to kiss the top of Murdoch's head.

"One thing," Murdoch said, holding up a stalling hand. "If he's not there, if he's taken off somewhere, you two don't go

looking for him. Understood?"

"Understood," Teresa said, and Charlie nodded.

L


	68. Comrades

Charlie scrambled to help Teresa with morning household chores, so as to hurry her along. She took her saved-up money along

when they left the ranch, and, once they'd left the horses at the stable in comfort, they walked to the jail office.

"We can take the material right over to the millinery shop," Charlie was telling Teresa. "Once he decides, I mean."

"I know you're excited, but try not to force things," Teresa warned. "And, you know he already said no once before, about selling

any of it. Let's hope he's changed his mind."

The door opened, just as the girls reached it, and Charlie collided with Val, who was coming out.

"Hey now," Val said, reaching out to steady Charlie by the shoulders. "Good morning, you two."

"Good morning," Teresa said, and Charlie smiled at him.

"Good morning, Mr. Val!"

"To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" Val said, expansively, and Charlie grinned.

"We came to see Burl," Teresa said, and Charlie jumped in.

"How is he today?"

"He's alright. He ate a hearty breakfast," Val said.

"Oh, that's good," Charlie said, happily.

"Is he still confused?" Teresa asked.

"Yeah. He is. Seems to come and go," Val said.

"That's the way it always is," Charlie said, knowingly. "He'll come around in a little while, and be fine."

She made to go inside the jail, and didn't see the look that Val and Teresa exchanged over the top of her head.

Burl was sitting on one of the chairs, whittling at a piece of wood. It didn't look like much right now to Charlie, but she knew

he was capable of creating something beautiful from wood, since he'd given her that carved horse.

She forced herself to speak slowly, and quietly.

"Good morning, Burl."

The old man kept at his whittling, not responding. That wasn't so unusual, so Charlie pulled up another chair to sit nearby.

After a few silent minutes of them all just mostly sitting, Teresa said, "I think I'll go over to the shop, and ask how much

she might be able to purchase of the brocade. Then, at least we'll know."

"Okay," Charlie said, without looking up from watching Burl's fingers carve.

Once Teresa was gone, and a few more minutes had passed, Val got up to refill his coffee cup, and then sat down

again behind his desk, and began to sift thru paperwork.

Charlie got up, too, and went over to sit on the corner of his desk.

"Teresa and I are going to get lunches and bring over here," Charlie informed him. "We'll get one for you, too."

Val looked up and gave her a grin. "Well, that is just darn nice of you, J.C."

In a quieter tone, Charlie asked, "Did he sleep well last night?"

"There wasn't much sleeping time left last night, by the time we got him back here. He slept till seven or 'round there, this morning."

"We're going to help him sell some of his things. Then he can get a better house."

"Hmm," Val said.

"That old shack is about to fall down anyway."

When Val kept on sorting his papers, Charlie went on, "But I still think it's mean of that man-that Mr. Blaine, to throw Burl out like he did."

"The man's entitled to do what he wants with his own property," Val said.

"It's just an old shack," Charlie said, in derision.

"It's _his_ old shack, Charlie," Val reminded her, looking up. "You seem to keep forgetting that part of it."

"I'm not forgetting it," Charlie protested. "But Burl didn't do it any harm."

Val flicked a glance at Burl, who was taking no notice, it seemed, and then said, low, "The old fellow was staying

there all this time without paying a penny in rent to Blaine."

"Oh." Charlie paused to consider that. "Well, I wish he didn't have to sleep here. It's not right he has to sleep in a cell, like

he's a criminal or something."

"The door to the cell is open, Charlie. He can come and go as he pleases. The only reason I'm keeping him here right now is

so Doc can have another look at him, later on."

Burl stood up from his chair, and began to shuffle towards the door. Val stood up and went after him.

"Where are you off to, old timer?" he asked.

Burl stopped, and looked up at Val. "Need to feed my dogs," he said.

"Your dogs are fine, sir. They're at a friend of mine's house," Val said. "You can see them later on, if you want."

Charlie had gotten up, and gone to stand nearby. "The puppies are at my house," she told Burl.

When the old man's eyes turned to take her in, they seemed to recognize her, as well.

"Ah, it's you, lass," he said.

"Yes," Charlie said, smiling at him.

After that, for the next hour or so, Charlie sat and watched Burl carve more, while he talked and told stories. She tried to

bring him around to the mysterious Lettie, and what his relationship to her had been. But, by the time Teresa returned, she

hadn't been very successful.

The girls went over to the café to get four lunch specials. It was considerable more than what Charlie had, by way of money, but

Teresa paid quietly, saying, "Murdoch gave me some money."

Alice herself was the one who brought them the trays, double-stacking them on the girl's arms.

"I hear Val has that old man over at the jail," she said.

"That's right," Teresa said. "The doctor's going to be taking a look at him."

"Shouldn't take long to say what's ailing him," Alice said, dropping some coins into Teresa's fingers.

"It's not whiskey that's ailing him," Charlie said, stoutly.

Alice looked instantly furious. "Your tongue needs tamed, young one," she told Charlie.

It was on the tip of Charlie's tongue. The words were ready to come out. ' _So does yours'_ she wanted to reply to the café owner.

Teresa turned and gave her a push in the back with the trays in her arms. "Let's go," she said, and Charlie obediently turned

to walk out and across the street.

"You're going to get yourself into trouble," Teresa said, as they crossed the street.

"She's a horrible woman," Charlie said.

"I'm not saying that I disagree with that. But, you can't always say just what you think to people. Do what I do, when I feel like

telling somebody that I think they're despicable."

"What?" Charlie asked, coming to a halt there on the sidewalk outside of Val's office.

"Well," Teresa said, coming to a stop as well. "I think of somebody like Alice, in their nightgown, or petticoats, being chased

into a lake or pond by a billy goat, or a bear or something."

Charlie giggled. "And that works?"

"Well, sometimes it keeps me from saying something that I shouldn't," Teresa said.

L

They ate their lunches in companionable company, and then Teresa volunteered to take the trays back over to the café, a fact which

suited Charlie.

When Burl wandered to the back of the jail hall, towards the cells, Charlie followed him. He went into the cell, the one he'd apparently slept

in the night before, and sat down on the bunk. He was rubbing at his fingers, as if they were paining him.

Thinking this was a good time, Charlie began to open one of the trunks, sitting to the side in one corner. Then, thinking better of it,

she went back to the outer office, where Val was again, sitting at his desk, writing.

"Do you think we could look thru the trunks now, Mr. Val?" she asked.

Val looked up at her. He was a bit surprised at her request for permission, but pleased about it.

"You can ask Burl. If he says it's alright, then you can go ahead on," Val said.

Charlie nodded, and disappeared to the back again. She approached Burl and said, quietly, "Could I look in your trunk at some

things?"

Burl waved his hand toward the trunk. "Surely."

Charlie eagerly knelt down and unclasped the trunk. By the time Teresa came back, Charlie had begun to uncover things she

was sure could fund Burl's future.

L

Charlie took the emerald ring from the jewelry box, and went to sit beside Burl on the cot.

"Tell me about this ring," she said.

Burl's watery eyes took in the ring that Charlie was holding out to him.

He seemed to not understand for a moment, and then he shook his head.

Charlie looked at Teresa and Teresa shook her head just very slightly, to tell Charlie to stop asking questions.

As Charlie prepared to stand up, Burl's knarled hand reached out to catch at Charlie's arm. "Let me take a look at it, girl."

Charlie held out the ring again, and Burl took it from her.

He said nothing, though, only held the ring and kept looking at it. Charlie looked at Teresa, who shrugged.

The two girls went thru the trunk, taking out some of the brocade, and Teresa went to sit beside Burl on the

cot. "Burl, this is beautiful material," she said.

Burl touched the vibrant blue on the top and said, "It was a pure joy to sew with."

"You have a lot of it," Teresa continued, gently.

"I brought it all on the boat when we came here," Burl said, still stroking the fabric.

"Did you?" Teresa asked, and Burl launched into a story of what the long boat trip from Ireland was like. The weather, the food

they ate, all of those things. Normally, Charlie loved to hear his stories, but now she was impatient. She wanted Teresa to

get to the point. That point being, all this material needed to be sold so that Burl could find a place to live.

Charlie burrowed thru the trunk, closer to the bottom. Past the material and the jewelry box. There were books in the bottom that

she hadn't seen before.

Looking thru them, Charlie found she couldn't read some of the words.

"Burl, what sort of words are these?" she asked, holding the book out.

"That is Gaelic," Burl said.

"Is this how they talk and write in Ireland?" Charlie asked him.

"Sometimes."

After that, Burl looked at some of the books with Charlie, until he said his eyes were starting to ache.

Teresa smoothly took up the talk of the material again. "Would you think of selling some of this, Burl?"

"Some of what?"

"Some of the brocade?" Teresa said.

"Well, why in tarnation would I want to do that?" Burl asked, looking perplexed.

"So that you could have some funds, some money," Teresa said.

"I got all I need."

Teresa and Charlie exchanged a glance and then Teresa continued, gently, "Well, that's good. But, you might need some

money, to get a new place to live."

"Got me a place to live," Burl said, as Val appeared to lean against the wall near the cell to listen.

"You do?" Teresa asked, thinking that Burl might have found a house sometime between yesterday and today. She looked to Val,

and Val shook his head, to indicate that it was not so.

Charlie was puzzled, and she looked from Teresa to Burl, and then to Val. Why was Burl saying that he had a place to live, and

Val saying that he did not?

"Where's your house?" Charlie asked.

"Charlie-" Teresa said, in a warning to be still.

"What are you on about, girl?" Burl asked, looking at Charlie thru his watery eyes. "You're talkin' foolish. You've been

to my place more times than I can count." He stood up, on unsteady legs, and Teresa stood up, too.

Val interceded, saying, "I think what the girls mean, Burl, is that your place, where you've been staying, you're not going to be

able to stay there anymore."

"Aw, it needs chocked up a bit, and all," Burl said, with a wave of his hand. "Before the cold winds come again-but your menfolks

will help me with that, won't they?" he asked, patting Teresa's arm.

Teresa gave Val a look of helplessness, and Burl said, "I tell ya what, young lady," to Teresa. "You take some of that there

fabric. You take all you like. You and the little gal can have some nice things made from it."

Then, in another abrupt change, Burl said, to Val, "You play checkers, sheriff?"

"There's a checkerboard on the shelf there," Val told him, and as the old man ambled to the outer office, Charlie and

Teresa both came to stand near Val.

"He doesn't understand anything!" Teresa said, in a whisper. "Thinking that he can go back to that shack!"

"I know," Val said, in a calm tone.

"What's going to happen?" Charlie asked. It felt as though things were getting more and more out of control.

"I'll have a talk with him," Val said, quietly. "See if I can get thru to him." He nodded towards the trunk. "Why don't you two go on ahead and

take some of that material that he offered to you?"

"Why?" Charlie asked, thinking that she and Teresa would never need so much.

But Teresa must have understood what Val meant, because she nodded, and said, "Come on, Charlie." She

went back to the trunk and took out as much of the brocade as she and Charlie could carry comfortably, filling Charlie's outstretched arms,

and then her own.

In the outer office, Burl was setting up the checkerboard, and Teresa said, "Thank you for the lovely gift of this," to him.

"Aw, you're welcome, you two will look like ladies of the ball," Burl said.

"Well, we'll see you soon," Teresa told him.

"We don't have to go yet," Charlie protested.

"Val needs us to go, Charlie, so that he can have that talk with Burl," Teresa said, quietly.

"Oh," Charlie said, looking from Teresa to Val.

"Come on, Charlie," Teresa said, as she and Val exchanged a glance. Charlie thought it must be one of those glances

that adults exchanged where they understood one another perfectly, but it left a kid out, also perfectly.

"Can we come back after awhile?" Charlie asked Val, as she paused at the door, and Teresa went on out to the sidewalk.

"I think you'd better just head on home," Val said, quietly, following the girls to the door.

Val sounded strange, at least to Charlie. She looked up at him. "Where will he stay at tonight?"

"He'll stay here."

"What if he gets upset, when you tell him that he can't go back to the shack?" Charlie asked.

"That's one reason I want you to go on along home," Val said. "Just in case that he does get riled."

Charlie swallowed. Her throat hurt.

Val leaned down so that he was on eye level with Charlie. "The doc's going to come over in a bit. We'll all three get some

supper together, and play a few games of checkers. And then Burl will get a good night's sleep. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, feeling as though she was going to cry.

"Thank you, Val," Teresa said.

"You're welcome," Val told her. He straightened to his full height, and gave Charlie a half-smile.

"Bye," Charlie managed.

"Goodbye, J.C."

Walking along the sidewalk, Charlie did her utmost to get her emotions under control.

"Why are we taking all of this now?" she asked Teresa, indicating the material they were both carrying. "Did the lady want to buy

this much of it?"

"I thought to take it over to the shop, to sell, but-" Teresa hesitated. "I think we should take it home first."

"How come?" Charlie asked, shifting the heavy material in her arms.

"I want to talk to Murdoch about it," Teresa said vaguely. "We can't carry it home on horseback, we can't hold it and besides that, it

would get dirty and ruined." She considered. "We'll rent a surrey from the stable to drive home."

And, so that's what they did. They went to the stable, and Teresa rented, and used Gurth to pull it, and tied Teresa's horse to

the back. The precious brocade was in the seat between them.

Once home, Jelly came to greet them, curious about the borrowed surrey.

"Can you unhitch it, Jelly?" Teresa asked him.

"Spose I can," Jelly grumbled.

The girls carried all the material into the coolness of the house, and Teresa used her foot to close the door.

"Where should we put it?" she asked, looking thoughtful. "Some place where it won't get any dust on it-"

"The trunk was dusty," Charlie reminded her. "And it was in there for a long, long time."

"Let's take it and put it on Murdoch's desk," Teresa said, her mind made up, and ignoring Charlie's reasoning. "I want him to see it, when I talk to him."

After they'd left the brocade piled on Murdoch's desk, and Teresa went off to find something to prepare for supper.

"Don't forget, you said that you'd help me with things," Teresa reminded Charlie.

"I did?" Charlie asked, trying to sound surprised.

"You know you did," Teresa said, turning Charlie in the direction of the kitchen and giving her a gentle push. "Now march."

L


	69. Val lays down the law

That evening, after supper, Teresa did talk to Murdoch about the brocade from Burl. Murdoch was suitably surprised, and impressed.

Charlie could tell, by the way he raised his eyebrows when he looked it over, and held a bit of it between his fingers.

"This is quite valuable," he said.

"I know," Teresa said. "When he said he wanted to give it to Charlie and I, to have dresses made, well, that changed things."

"I can see that it would," Murdoch said.

Charlie didn't see. She didn't understand.

"Why does it change things?" she asked, from her seat beside Scott on the settee. "It just means that there's a lot of it to sell, right?"

"No, Charlie," Teresa said. "Somehow it doesn't feel right, now, to sell it."

"But Burl needs the money!" Charlie protested.

"He gave it to _us,_ though," Teresa said. "He wants you and I to use it."

"But, I don't need a fancy dress like that," Charlie said. Reasonably, she thought.

Teresa sighed, looking tired.

Murdoch sat down in the chair behind the desk, leaning back.

"I just wanted to talk to you about it first," Teresa was saying. "Before we attempted any sale, I mean."

Murdoch nodded, looking thoughtful.

"Sell some, and use some for yourselves," Johnny pointed out, from his chair across the room.

"Simple, but doable," Murdoch said.

"Would it be right to sell any of it, though?" Teresa persisted. "When he thinks he was giving it as a gift to us?"

"You wouldn't be selling it for your own gain," Scott said. "It's to profit Burl for what he needs."

Teresa smiled at Scott. "That's right. I guess I hadn't thought of it that way. Thank you, Scott."

Charlie linked her arm thru Scott's, feeling pride. Teresa could have a dress made, and then the rest could be sold,

since she herself didn't need any more dresses. Problem solved.

"I was thinking, though," Teresa went on. "The dress shops in Stockton or somewhere else, might be able to pay more than

the store here can. Bigger city, so bigger purchasing budget."

"That's true," Murdoch said, in agreement.

"I could take some of it, on the train, and see what I can find out," Teresa said.

"To Stockton?" Murdoch asked.

"To start with," Teresa verified.

"I think that's a good idea," Scott said, in support.

Teresa gave Scott a smile, and turned to Murdoch. "What do you think, Murdoch? I could go tomorrow, or the next day. I could

stay overnight, and see what I can find out."

"Alright, sweetheart," Murdoch agreed. "You make your arrangements, and I'll go along with you."

"Will you?" Teresa asked, looking pleased. "You and I haven't gone together in a long while."

"Well, we'll go now," Murdoch said, indulgently. "We'll have supper, somewhere fancy, while we're there."

Teresa leaned down and gave Murdoch a hug around his neck. "Thank you."

L

Murdoch and Teresa set out mid-morning the next day, with the brocade carefully packed in brown wrapping.

Maria set Charlie to picking from the garden, and when she'd finished that, it was time for the noon meal, after which Maria

planned to set off for her sister's to help with the care of her niece's newborn.

Charlie ate her roast beef sandwich, and nibbled at her carrot sticks, listening to Scott and Johnny talk about work

around the ranch.

"What are you going to do this afternoon?" Scott asked Charlie.

Charlie considered. The unexpected freedom made the possibilities immense.

"I could come with you and Johnny. And help," Charlie suggested.

"You could," Scott agreed. "You could also work on your arithmetic and handwriting."

Charlie stopped, her fork halfway to her mouth, to give him an aghast glance. "Aw, Scott-" she began, and

then she saw his grin.

"You're teasing," she said, smiling back at him.

They went on talking, then, more about ranching work.

Charlie waited until they were nearly finished, and pushing their plates away.

"I'll do the dishes," she said, and Scott said, "Good girl."

As they got to their feet, scooting in their chairs, Charlie said, "After I do them, could I ride Gurth to town?"

Scott paused, and looked serious.

"What for?"

"Well," Charlie hesitated, with both Scott and Johnny's eyes on her. "I was thinking I might go to the jail, to see how Burl is."

"Ah," Scott said, with a nod, not looking surprised.

"I'm worried about him," Charlie admitted. "Mr. Val was going to try to explain to him, about the owner putting him out. I'm afraid

that he won't understand."

"That's adult business, Charlie," Scott said, seriously.

"I know," Charlie said, earnestly. "I just want to visit him for a little while."

"To the jail to see Burl, and that's all, hmm?" Scott asked her.

Charlie nodded her head vigorously.

"We'll be close by, working, won't we?" Scott asked, looking to Johnny.

"Near enough," Johnny said.

"Alright," Scott said. "You can go into town, and go and see Burl." At Charlie's smile, he continued, "Don't get in Val's way, if he

has things to do. And, be home by three o'clock. We'll be out in the west pasture. Ride out there when you get back, so I know that you're

home safely."

"I will. I promise," Charlie said.

L

After she was left alone, in the big house, and had done up the dishes, Charlie hung the dishcloth carefully, and went

out to saddle her horse.

She enjoyed her ride into town, and, once there, she tied Gurth out front of the jail. The front door was open, and Charlie burst

thru. Val was there, a broom in his hand, sweeping up what looked to be pieces of glass. There were papers thrown about

as well, and a general disarray.

"Hullo," Charlie said, standing at the doorway.

"Hey, there," Val said, in reply, as he continued sweeping.

Charlie stepped closer, and Val ushered her to the side. "Careful. Step the other way. There's broken glass."

"What happened?" Charlie asked.

"It's what's left of my lamp," Val said, dryly.

Charlie went to fetch the dustpan, and brought it over to him. Val took it, and crouched down. "I'll do it," he said. "I don't want

you to get cut."

When he'd swept up the bits of glass, he poured it into the dust bin, and then set the broom in the corner. When he

began to pick up the papers across the floor, Charlie went to help.

Charlie had the sinking feeling that she knew what had caused the wreckage of the jail office. Helping to stack the papers,

she asked, "Was it Burl that did it?"

"Yes, ma'm," Val said, sounding grim.

"Where is he?" Charlie asked, then, feeling worried.

"Here, I'll take those," Val said, taking the papers she held, and taking them over to the desk. "He's in the back, there," he said,

with a nod towards the cells.

"Oh," Charlie said, and began to head that way.

"Charlie, just hold on," Val said, and Charlie paused, looking back at him.

"Come here a minute," he said. He'd stacked the papers in a pile, and half-sat on his desk, lighting a rolled cigarette

from his pocket.

Charlie came over to stand beside him, and Val gestured to his desk chair. "Sit down there," he ordered.

Charlie sat, feeling tense. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I want to talk to you, before you go back there to see him," Val said.

"He got real upset this morning, and he managed to break a few things before I got hold of the situation," Val continued.

"Was he upset about his shack, and not going back there?" Charlie asked.

"That and some other things."

"Are you angry at him, because he broke your lamp?" Charlie asked.

Val sighed. "No, Charlie, I'm not angry with him."

"Can I go back and talk to him now?" Charlie asked.

"You can. I want you to know first, that the cell door is closed. And, I want it to stay that way for the time being."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead, puzzled. "How come?"

"Because he's a ornery old rascal, and I had some things to tend to this morning. I couldn't do those things, with

him acting out, so, for his own safety, and everybody else's, he's sitting in a locked cell."

"How long does he have to stay locked up?" Charlie asked.

"I haven't rightly decided that yet. I reckon it depends on how much he settles down by this evening."

Charlie was looking at Val, a range of emotions crossing her face.

"So, you can go and talk with him. But, I don't think you should expect too much. He probably won't answer at all, but if he does,

and he gets to caterwauling, then I'm going to have you come back out here. Alright?" Val said.

Charlie nodded, and Val said, "Alright," again, and moved to go and pour himself a cup of coffee. Charlie went

towards the back of the jail, towards the cells. She went at it slowly, nibbling at her lower lip in apprehension.

When she rounded the corner, she saw that Burl was sitting on his cot, staring at the opposite wall.

Charlie paused. "Hello, Burl," she said.

True to what Val had said, Burl was silent, not even looking up at her.

Charlie was determined to make him speak. She stepped to the cell door, and wrapped her fingers around the bars.

"Hello," she said, again, louder this time.

Silence. No recognition.

"I came to visit you. And see how you were doing," Charlie said.

"Quite a sight, ain't it?" Burl said, not looking up.

"What?" Charlie asked him, not understanding what he meant.

"Come to see an old man locked up? I reckon that's an entertainin' sight, sure enough."

Not sure how to proceed, Charlie hesitated, and then pulled one of the wooden chairs over closer to the cell door, and

sat down.

Abruptly, the old man said, "Is it unpleasant warm outside?"

"It's warm, but it's not too bad," Charlie said. "It's not unpleasant."

"Did you and that sister of yours decide what colors you're fixin' to use, on your dresses?'

Charlie didn't correct Burl's confused assumption about Teresa being her sister.

Charlie knew that Teresa had put back some of the darker blue, and then a lighter blue, of the brocade, to keep for herself

and for Charlie, although Charlie had told her there was no need. The rest had been taken to Stockton this morning, to try to be sold.

"Um, dark blue, and light blue," Charlie told him.

"I would have thought you'd want some of the yellow," Burl said.

"What's your favorite color?" Charlie asked him, to get him talking about something besides the brocade.

"I'm partial to red myself."

And then, in an abrupt turn, Burl asked, "What color would your mother like of it? Be sure to offer her some."

So Burl thought she had a mother? Charlie tried to remember just what it was that she'd told Burl, about her family. She knew

that she'd let him believe that Murdoch was her grandfather. That Scott was her father.

"My mother died. A long time ago," Charlie said.

"Did she? Well, my own mother died when I was a wee one myself."

And then, again, another change. Burl turned to face her, and his eyes were clear, not cloudy.

"You'll do some good with it," he said. "Beware of charlatans. And those who want to take it from you."

"Take what?" Charlie asked.

"When you're older. There'll be many people that you can help," Burl said.

Charlie met his eyes, and felt a chill go down her back. What was he talking about? It was almost as though-no, it couldn't be.

It seemed as though he was speaking of her inheritance. But, how could he know about it? She'd never told him.

And then, Burl smiled, showing his blackened teeth. "I'm sleepy now." And, he laid down on the cot, and closed his eyes.

L

Charlie sat for a couple of minutes, watching as Burl drifted off into sleep. At first she thought he might just be pretending to

sleep, so as to get her to leave, and not pester him. She disregarded that thought, though, when Burl seemed to _actually_ be asleep.

She stood up, and returned the chair to its spot against the wall. She stood a moment or so longer, looking at the old man.

Then she wandered back to the outer office. Val was sitting at his desk, busily writing on a paper, and when Charlie came to

stand near the desk, he said, without looking up, "Have your talk with him?"

"Uh huh. He's asleep now." Charlie said.

"I imagine he needs the rest," Val said, dryly.

Charlie went to the window, to look out at the passersby on the street. Then she came back closer to the desk, reaching down to pick

up a pencil. She laid it down on the desk, and then stood, silently.

Finally, Val laid down his pen, and sat back in his chair a bit, surveying her. "Something on your mind, J.C.?" he asked, knowingly.

"I'm just wondering-" she began slowly, "What's to happen to Burl? Where is supposed to go, to live?"

"Doc and I are talking over some things," Val said. "Burl is not just going to be tossed out, with nowhere to sleep, or live. Something

will be done."

"Like what?" Charlie asked, eagerly.

"Nothing definite that I want to get into right now, with you. Have a little faith."

"I wish you could open the cell door," Charlie said, looking at him out of sad brown eyes. "He-"

And then, Val gave her a long look, and said, "Charlie," in a warning way. Charlie stopped talking to look at him. "You can come visit Burl here, because I know that

you think a lot of him. And, you can help him in whatever ways that Murdoch, or Scott or Teresa allow you to do. But, here at the jail,

I have the say-so. I already explained to you that I'll open that cell door when I think it's safe, and when I think it's right."

Subdued by his words and tone, Charlie was silent. Her gaze, though not accusatory, _was_ somewhat reproachful.

"And you can stop looking at me like that, too," Val said. "You hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Charlie said.

After that, for a few long minutes, it was silent in the jail. Val went on with his paperwork, and Charlie felt sort of adrift. She supposed

she could get started back home, but she didn't want to leave with things not quite right between her and Mr. Val. She took his

coffee cup, and went to the stove, touching the pot, and then refilled it, to the brim, and carried it over to the desk. She set it down

carefully, to the side of his papers.

"Thank you," Val said, and then he looked up. He reached out and picked up the cup, and took a drink of the steaming coffee.

He smiled at Charlie, and she smiled back. "I guess I'll go now," she said. "Scott said to be home by three o'clock."

Val looked at the clock on the wall. "It's after two, now," he verified. "You probably should be getting on."

"I hope Burl acts good for you now," Charlie said, still feeling awkward.

Val took her hand and pulled her over closer. "Burl will be just fine," he said, sounding certain.

Charlie nibbled at her lower lip and nodded.

"Maybe I can come back tomorrow," she said, hopefully.

"Well, we'll see you then," Val said.

L

Outside, in the brightness of the sunshine, Charlie stood, contemplating. She thought she might go over to get some

jelly beans, to take home and share with Murdoch. In the mercantile, she didn't have to wait long. There weren't many customers.

She got the jelly beans, and then, on her way out of the store, she nearly bumped into the doctor as he came in.

The doctor said, "Excuse me there, young lady," and stepped around Charlie.

Charlie paused, outside on the sidewalk, and contemplated some more. She thought, if he didn't take too long inside

the store, that she might talk to the doctor for a few minutes about Burl.

She was still standing there, when the doctor came out. Doctor Burton, that was his name. Since she'd been here,

with Scott and the family, she hadn't needed to see a doctor. So, she'd never actually met him, only seen him around

town and all.

As he moved to go past her, and walk on, Charlie said, "Doctor Burton?"

He paused and looked down at her. "Yes?"

"I was wondering-if I could talk to you, if you weren't too busy."

"Are you feeling ill, young lady?" he asked.

"No. I just wanted to talked to you," Charlie said.

"Well, I think I have a spare few minutes," he said, with a smile. "Would you like to talk here, or at my office?"

"At your office. Please," Charlie said, thinking that it should be at the doctor's office, so as to be professional, and so

he would take her seriously.

"Well, alright then," Doctor Burton said. "Off we go."

At the office, he ushered Charlie in ahead of him, and then went to set down his parcel on a desk overloaded with papers, and medicine

bottles.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to a chair, and Charlie sat down. He took the top off a tall container, which held candy, mostly peppermint

sticks. "Have some candy."

Charlie took out one of the peppermint sticks. "Thank you," she said.

The doctor set the container down, and took one out for himself. "I have a sweet tooth, myself," he said.

Charlie smiled, thinking she quite liked the man. "So do I," she admitted.

"Now," he said, taking a chair opposite her. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if we could talk about Burl."

"The old fellow?"

Charlie nodded. "He's my friend," she said simply, and the doctor gave her an approving glance.

"You're not of the majority, then, who consider him to be a mystery? A nuisance and an oddity?"

Charlie sat up very straight in the chair. "He's mysterious," she admitted. "But I don't think he's a nuisance, or an oddity. I think folks

just don't understand him, is all. If they got to know him better, then they'd see that he's a good person."

The doctor looked thoughtful, and then he asked, "What's your name, young lady?"

"Charlie Bays."

"I don't believe that I'm familiar with any of the Bays folks-" he began.

"I don't have any-Bays people here. I'm from Stockton. I'm living with the Lancers."

"Ah. Now, there's a name that I do know," he said. "How long have you been living with them?"

"I met Scott-well, all of them, about six months ago. But, I've been living with them about four months now."

"I see. Well, I didn't know. It's very nice to meet you. Charlie, you say?"

"Yes. Charlotte, really, but I like Charlie better."

"Well, what did you want to discuss about Burl with me?" he asked.

"Mr. Val said you were reading up about things. I wondered if you knew what makes him the way that he is. So confused

sometimes. Some people think it's because he's old."

"But, you don't think that that's what it is, hmm?" the doctor asked her.

"I don't know. Sometimes-he's not confused at all. It's like-he's two people, almost."

"Yes. That's an accurate way to describe it," the doctor said. "Sometimes, in people like Burl, who show the symptoms of

confusion, alternated with clarity, they are diagnosed with melancholy, or mania. Melancholy is a way of saying sadness, a great sadness

that is overwhelming for the person, nearly despondent. Mania is a burst of sudden energy, heightened by thinking that you're capable

of nearly anything."

Charlie thought that over, and said, "Burl's not melancholy, though. Not really. He doesn't laugh or smile much, but he doesn't seem like

what you said-"

"Despondent," the doctor supplied.

"Yes. He doesn't seem that. He likes to hunt, and be with his dogs, and carve things. And he can sew. He was a tailor, in Ireland."

"You've learned a great deal about him," the doctor said.

Charlie nodded. "So does he have to have that _melancholy,_ then?"

"No." The doctor sighed a bit. "Nor the mania, necessarily. It's the label that's attached, when that's all that's available.

I'm afraid that not much is known about all the workings of the human mind. Many more studies need to be completed before there's a true understanding.

And before we can really help people. Like Burl."

"Oh," Charlie said. "So-there's not really any way to help him, then?"

"To help him in the context of _fixing_ him, so that's he's not so blatantly unusual, then no, not really."

"Oh," Charlie said, again.

"It's discouraging, isn't it?" the doctor asked her. "It is for me, as well."

Charlie nodded, and smiled at the doctor. She found that she quite liked him.

"I'd better go," she said, getting to her feet.

The doctor stood, as well. "It's been a pleasure, conversing with you," he said, and Charlie thought how he treated her as

if she had sense, and not as if she were only a kid.

L


	70. Supper surprise

Charlie rode home, worrying as she got nearer. She hoped she wasn't very late. Past the three o'clock time that Scott

had set. She thought about turning Gurth out, and perhaps going in to prepare something for Scott and Johnny to eat. She felt

confident enough to do that now, on her own. She'd had more cooking lessons from Maria, and had been well instructed

in the stove. She wouldn't turn the kitchen smoky as she had the last time she'd tried it alone.

She remembered, though, that Scott had said to come and find him, where he was working, so he would know she'd

arrived home safely.

So she let Gurth drink a bit, and went into the kitchen, to peruse the cookie jar, packing up a small bundle of them, and

keeping one out to eat as she rode.

Charlie found the group of men working. It wasn't too difficult. She rode the direction that Scott had told her to ride, and came to them.

They were ankle deep in muddy creek water, pulling fence wire and posts from the water.

She left Gurth with the horses, and walked to the edge of the creek, watching the group, consisting of Scott, Johnny, and two

other men as they worked.

Johnny called out a hello to her, and Charlie said, "Hullo, Johnny!" in return.

She sat down on the grass at the edge of the creek, and after a few minutes, Scott came sloshing out of the water, pulling off

his fencing gloves.

"Did you get to see Burl?" he asked.

"For a few minutes," Charlie said. There was so much she wanted still to say, to tell him, but he only nodded, and said,

"We're going to be here working for a while longer." He pushed his hat up further on his forehead, surveying her. "You should go

on to the house."

"Alright," Charlie said. "I was thinking-I could make you and Johnny some supper," she offered.

Scott nodded. "That would be nice. There's probably some roast beef, or cold chicken."

"I meant, to _actually_ cook you something," Charlie specified.

"Hmm," Scott said, looking as though he were considering.

"I can do it," Charlie said, earnestly. "I've learned how since the last time I tried."

"We could just have the cold chicken," Scott said, but Charlie could tell he was considering her request.

"Please let me, Scott. I really want to," she pleaded.

"Alright," he agreed. "You go along and get started. If you have any problems, you can call for Jelly."

"I won't have any problems!" Charlie said, giving him a dimpled smile.

7

Once she'd untacked Gurth and turned him out, and put the tack away, Charlie went to the house, washing her hands, and then she went about

in search of the perfect supper menu.

First on the menu was the meat. The Lancer men enjoyed their meat, most definitely. Not fried chicken. They'd had it only two

nights before. Not roast beef, either. Steaks. That's what. She could prepare steaks. Once she had the steaks in a skillet on the stove, sizzling

most satisfactorily, Charlie set about making a salad, from the produce in the garden. She hesitated, wondering if she had the time, or the

skill, to make biscuits on her own.

A few minutes later, Charlie was in the throes of making those biscuits. She tried to remember everything that she'd seen Maria

do, and, when Scott came to the kitchen door a good while later, Charlie had just put the biscuits into the oven.

"It smells real good in here," he said, and Charlie came to him, putting her flour-covered hands on his stomach, to push at him.

"Scott, no," she pleaded. "Don't come in-go and wait in the library until the supper's all ready, please?"

"What for?" Scott asked, looking amused.

"I want to surprise you-I want to do it all on my own, for you and Johnny! Please?"

"Alright, I'm going," Scott said, holding up his hands in defeat.

He turned to go, and Charlie said, "No peeking."

"I'm not looking," Scott assured her, and went towards the library, to join Johnny. He found himself smiling, full of

pride.

L

In between turning the steaks, and keeping an eye on her biscuits so they didn't burn, Charlie went to the library

door to inquire. "Do you want to eat in the kitchen, or in the dining room?" she asked.

Sitting opposite one another in easy chairs, and sipping at pre-dinner bourbons, Scott looked to Johnny, who shrugged in answer.

"I figure that's up to you, kiddo," Scott told her. "This is your dinner party."

Charlie beamed. For a moment she thought her heart was so full it might burst.

"Alright!" she said, and spun on her heel to run back to the kitchen again.

"That's some kid," Johnny said, in admiration.

"Yes. She is that," Scott said.

When Charlie appeared at the library door once again, she said, serenely, "Supper's ready. In the kitchen."

The brothers stood, and followed her to the kitchen. As he walked, Johnny rubbed his hands together, saying,

"Alright, let's see what we've got."

In the kitchen, the table was set, and there was a vase of flowers in the center of the table. On their plates was a large

steak each, and one half the size on Charlie's plate. The bowl of salad was in the center next to the flowers and the biscuits were in

a wicker bread basket, with the jars of Maria's jelly nearby.

For a moment Scott was truly startled. He hadn't expected she would attempt to cook steaks, or actually make biscuits.

"This looks real nice, sweetheart," he said.

"Looks darn delicious, pequeno," Johnny said.

They sat down to eat, and Johnny proclaimed the steak one of the best he'd ever eaten. And the biscuits "as light as a feather".

"Nice of Maria to leave these biscuits for us," Johnny said, lathering his second biscuit with pear jelly.

"Maria didn't-" Charlie began to correct him, and then she saw that he was teasing.

Afterwards, when they'd finished, Charlie got coffee cups, and filled them with the coffee she'd prepared.

"Thank you," Scott told her.

"Yeah, thanks, pequeno."

When she'd set the pot back onto the stove, Scott reached out and put his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

He pulled her down onto his knee. "You did a fine job. I'm proud of you."

"Yeah. It was _delicious,"_ Johnny told her, and took a drink from his coffee cup.

"It was fun. I liked doing it," Charlie said, beaming at their praise.

Scott ran his hand over her back. "So tell us, how was Burl today?"

Charlie instantly became serious. "Mr. Val has him locked in the cell."

"Locked in?" Johnny asked.

Charlie nodded. "He said he's not sure when he'll let him out."

"Why is he locked up?" Scott asked.

This she wasn't so eager to tell them. It would only reinforce their belief that Burl was unstable, unpredictable, not safe, and all of that.

Still, she had to tell them. They would find out from Mr. Val anyway, and then it would seem that she'd kept it from them.

"He got upset when Mr. Val was telling him about not being able to go back to his shack. He messed up some papers from the desk."

"And Val locked him up for that?" Johnny asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He broke Mr. Val's lamp," Charlie admitted. "There was glass all over the floor."

"Hmm," Scott said, and both he and Johnny looked thoughtful.

"I'm worried about where he's going to live," Charlie said, looking from Scott to Johnny.

"Val has some ideas," Scott told her.

"That's what he said. But, he said he didn't want to tell me what they were right now," Charlie said.

"Maybe," Scott said, reaching up to tap the end of her nose. "It's because he knows how you get about things. Do you suppose?"

Charlie shrugged, and Scott went on, "Besides, what did I tell you today before you left?"

"That it's adult business," Charlie said, sheepishly.

"Correct," Scott said. "There you go. Give the adults a chance in this whole thing."

He patted Charlie's hip. "Get up, now, so we can get these dishes cleaned up."

"You're going to help me?" Charlie asked, hopefully.

"We'll help. Won't we, Johnny?"

"I don't remember volunteerin'," Johnny protested, but he did help.

7

The next morning, over breakfast that Maria had prepared, Charlie listened to Scott and Johnny talk about what

work they were beginning that morning.

"Scott?" Charlie began, at a lull in their conversation.

"What?"

"I was thinking-that I'd go into town again, and check on Burl."

Scott looked up, and raised an eyebrow. "How's that?" he asked.

Charlie recognized her error, and felt her face turn warm.

"Could I go and see him? Like I did yesterday?" she amended.

Scott set his coffee cup down, and got to his feet. "You've got chores. I think Maria needs your help this morning."

"After I help Maria, then could I go?" Charlie asked. "I'd come home when you say to, like I did yesterday."

"You stay around here this morning, and we'll see about you going later on today," Scott said, pausing beside her chair.

Charlie looked up at him, disappointed.

"See you later, alright?" Scott said, and then he and Johnny were gone. Outside, to their work.

L

By the time Murdoch and Teresa arrived home, Charlie had been picking in the garden, and was hot and sweaty.

She went to greet Murdoch and Teresa, the two puppies trailing after her, and Teresa said, in obviously high spirits, "Hello, Charlie! Well, we did well. One of

the shops bought nearly all the brocade that we took!"

"That's good," Charlie said. "Did they pay you for it?"

"Of course they paid us!" Teresa said, squeezing Charlie's shoulders. "Didn't they, Murdoch?"

"That they did," Murdoch said. He smiled at Charlie. "How are things around here, darling?"

Charlie told them about fixing supper all on her own merit the evening before.

"I'm sorry that I missed it," Murdoch said. "Perhaps you'll do it again soon, hmm?"

Charlie said that she would, indeed, and then, as Murdoch went off to begin work, Charlie followed Teresa up to

her bedroom, where she went behind the partition to change from her dress to her everyday clothes.

Charlie sat on the edge of Teresa's bed, listening as Teresa talked.

"The lady there at the shop couldn't believe the amount of brocade that we had-and she was thrilled. She said

she'd take more if we had it!" Teresa continued, as she came around the partition, brushing back her dark hair.

"What are you going to do with the money you made?" Charlie asked, bouncing up and down on the bed a bit.

"Murdoch said to take it to Val, and let him keep it for Burl. That way, it will be there, for things that he needs-"

"Like a place to live, right?" Charlie asked.

"Well, yes," Teresa said, pausing in her brushing. "That is the most important thing right now, isn't it?"

"Nobody will tell me anything about it, though," Charlie lamented. "They keep saying that it's adult business."

Teresa smiled at Charlie. "I know. It's frustrating for you. You're the one who befriended Burl at the beginning, and

now it probably seems as though we've all taken over."

"It does seem that way, sometimes," Charlie admitted.

"Well, don't worry too much. There's still going to be plenty for you to do," Teresa said. She laid her hairbrush on the

dresser, and held out her hand to Charlie.

"Come on," she said. "I've got an idea."

L

Teresa went to talk to Murdoch, and then to ask Jelly to hitch up the buggy. Listening to Teresa as she talked

with Murdoch, asking him about taking the money into town to Val, and then going to talk to the Silverman's. The Silverman's

were, as Charlie discovered, a family who had a daughter near Teresa's age, and also, a small house near the stables that they

rented out.

Teresa was sure the small house would be fine for Burl. A step up from the old shack, and somewhere safe for the old man to live.

"I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to ask them about it," Murdoch said.

"Good," Teresa said, with satisfaction. "Well, Charlie and I will go, then, and we'll be back before suppertime. Alright?"

Murdoch looked to Charlie. "Have you done your chores that Maria asked you to do?"

"Yes, Murdoch," Charlie said, earnestly.

"Alright, then. We'll see you both at supper."

As they trotted the buggy down the long roadway, Charlie looked at Teresa in admiration.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Get Murdoch to give permission for things. It's almost as though you can do whatever you want to."

"I am older than you are, you know," Teresa reminded.

"I know you're grown up. It just seems as though Murdoch listens to you and doesn't tell you that you can't do

things," Charlie tried to explain.

Teresa shook her head. "Believe me, I don't get to do just what I please, Charlie. It takes diplomacy. And-"

"What's that?" Charlie interrupted. "Diplomacy?"

"That means," Teresa hesitated, thinking how to explain it, "To talk to people with sensitivity, to be tactful. Not demanding. And,

with Murdoch, it means being respectful to him, always."

"Have you ever not been?" Charlie asked, feeling curious.

"Not been what? Respectful to him?" Teresa asked.

When Charlie nodded, Teresa took a deep breath, and said, "Ohhh. Yes, a couple of times. Early on."

"What happened?" Charlie asked.

"Why do you want to know that for?" Teresa asked, looking amused. "Are you wanting to hear about how I nearly

got myself done away with, or something?"

"I'm curious," Charlie admitted. "Tell me, please."

"Well," Teresa said, as if winding up for a story. "The first time was-oh, I think about a month or so after I came to stay

at Lancer. I wanted to go to a party. I even went to town and bought a new dress for it. I had all my plans made before I

even spoke to Murdoch about it. So, anyway, when I did finally announce to him that I was going to be attending this

party the next evening, he informed me that I would _not_ be attending. I got very, very upset, and things went downward

quickly."

"Why didn't he want you to go to the party?" Charlie asked, enthralled at this glimpse into Teresa's past with Murdoch.

"Oh, he didn't care for the reputation of the people who were giving it. They were a young couple, newly married, and they

were known for giving very unsuitable parties, for young people. Lots of drinking, not much chaperoning, things like that. They

were _very_ scandalous, at that time."

"Glory," Charlie said, in awe. "So, what happened?"

"I tried to tell Murdoch that I'd already purchased a dress, and that I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and

making my own decisions. Such as the decision to go to this particular party."

"You really did sass him?" Charlie asked, incredulously.

"Oh, yes, I did. He told me to leave the dinner table, and go up to my room. I went, stomping and grumbling the whole way. And,

when he came in to say goodnight to me, I refused to speak to him."

"Did he get really angry, then?" Charlie asked.

"No. Not then. He told me he was sorry if I made the decision not to speak to him, or tell him goodnight. Then, the

next morning, I refused to go down to breakfast. He came storming up, and told me that he'd had enough of my behavior,

and that I would come downstairs immediately to eat my breakfast. I told him since he wouldn't allow me to make decisions,

like going to the party that I wanted, then I was making the decision not to take my meals with him. That I would eat later."

Charlie's eyes widened. She couldn't believe that Teresa had once been so horrible, so rebellious.

"He said no, that I could change my attitude, and come downstairs to eat, and behave myself, or he would see to it that

I _learned_ to behave in his home, by having a spanking."

"Did he spank you, then?" Charlie asked.

"No," Teresa sighed. "I retreated very quickly, and suddenly decided that going down to breakfast was a much better

idea for me."

Charlie giggled. "You were _really_ bad."

"I was," Teresa said, in honesty. "As it turned out, Murdoch was right about that party. There were all sorts things that

happened, that should not have happened there. So it was a good thing that I didn't go."

"What sorts of things?" Charlie asked.

"Ah, I'll tell you some of that when you're older," Teresa said, and Charlie sighed.

"You know, it makes me feel badly, even now, that I treated Murdoch that way," Teresa said, looking lost in thought. "He's really

a wonderful man. And, I owe him so very much."

Charlie felt a bond with Teresa in that moment. She understood that feeling. It was sort of that way with she and Scott. And,

she owed him, too. So very much.

L


	71. Detained

At the jail, the girls got out of the buggy, and went inside. Val was not at the desk, or in the office at all.

"Maybe he had to go tend to something," Teresa said.

Charlie went to touch the coffee pot the way that she'd seen Johnny do. "The coffee pot is still warm," she said. "He hasn't been

gone long."

"Well, we could go on over to the Silverman's. Maybe Val will be back by the time we're finished talking to them."

"I want to say hello to Burl first," Charlie said, and went towards the back, to the cells, Teresa following behind.

But, Burl wasn't there. The cell that he'd been in the day before was empty, the cell door opened. There was no sign that

Burl had been there at all, other than the fact that his trunks were there.

"Well, it looks as though he went out walking, or something," Teresa said.

"No. I forgot to tell you. Yesterday, Mr. Val had him actually locked in."

"Why?" Teresa asked.

"Because he got upset and broke the lamp, and messed up the office," Charlie aid.

"Oh," Teresa said, looking regretful. "Well, Val must have let him go, then."

"Yeah," Charlie said, feeling uncertain. "But, where did he go?"

"Maybe we can find out," Teresa said, reassuringly. "We'll go and see the Silverman's. And, then maybe we'll find Val, and

he can tell us where Burl is. Come on."

Charlie followed Teresa out, and they got back into the buggy, driving the short distance to the Silverman's house. When the two girls got

to the front door, Teresa knocked, and then said, quietly to Charlie, "Mrs. Silverman is nice enough, but she's a bit sharp. Don't take

it personally."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead, wondering just what Teresa meant by that. A tall, thin woman opened the door, and stood,

wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing.

"Teresa," she said, by way of greeting.

"Hello, Mrs. Silverman," Teresa said. "How are you?"

"This heat has near done me in, that's about how I am." The woman's eyes moved to Charlie, and then back to Teresa again. "What can

I do for you, Teresa?"

"We came to talk to you about your rental house," Teresa said.

"We? You and this child here? Are you planning to move away from Lancer?" the woman asked sharply.

"No, ma'm. It's for someone else that I want to inquire about it."

"Murdoch knows you're here?" Mrs. Silverman demanded, insinuating that Teresa would be amiss if it wasn't so.

"Yes. He does. He sent his best to you," Teresa said.

Mrs. Silverman appeared appeased. "Well, come in," she said, gesturing them into the house. Once indoors, they were

offered, or rather they were _told,_ to take a seat on an incredibly uncomfortable sofa. Drinking lemonade that, to Charlie, tasted

as though it had no sugar whatsoever in it, Teresa began to ask about the rental house.

"Of course Mr. Silverman would have to have the say-so," Mrs. Silverman was saying. "But, I myself, would like to

see it rented out as soon as possible-the money would be welcome."

"How much rent would you be asking a month?" Teresa asked.

"Again, Mr. Silverman would have to say for a certainty, but I know it would be in the neighborhood of seven dollars a month."

Not knowing about what was normal for rent, Charlie had no idea if seven dollars was a fair amount. She looked to Teresa, who

was nodding. "I think that might be alright," she said. "I'll talk to our friend, and to those that are advising him, and let you know. It would

be fairly soon, though, that the house was needed."

"It's a man? He have a family?" Mrs. Silverman asked. "Children? The house isn't that large-"

"No. No children," Teresa said.

"A wife?" the other woman asked.

"No. He's alone," Teresa said. "He's an older man."

"He be able to keep up his rent?"

"Yes, he would," Teresa said.

"Well, what's his name? I know most folks around here-"

"His name is Burl Clemens."

"Burl Clemens," Mrs. Silverman said, looking as though she was thinking hard, trying to recall the name.

"Yes."

"That doesn't ring a bell in my memory for some reason."

"Well, he keeps to himself mostly," Teresa said.

"Quiet sort, hmm? Well, that's fine. Why didn't he come himself?"

Charlie waited, wondering just what Teresa was going to say.

"He hasn't been feeling well," Teresa said. "But, we'll bring him by." She stood up, and so Charlie did, as well, leaving

the lemonade that tasted so bitter.

Once outside, after Mrs. Silverman had closed the door behind them, the girls got back into the buggy.

Teresa sat, though, instead of driving on, looking deep in thought.

"I think I did wrong," she said.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked.

"Well, I didn't tell her that it was Burl."

"Yes, you did. You said Burl Clemens. I heard you," Charlie defended.

"I meant, that I didn't tell them that it was _Burl._ If I'd told her that it was the little, raggedy man that everyone thinks is

so strange, she would have known right off who he was."

"Why is it wrong that you didn't tell her?" Charlie asked.

"Because I doubt she would even consider it, if she knew who Burl really is."

"You mean they won't rent to Burl, once they find out?" Charlie asked.

"Right," Teresa said, with a sigh.

The dark haired girl looked back towards the Silverman's front door. "Maybe I should go back up and tell her right now. That

way, we'll know if their house is going to be an option for Burl."

"Maybe if we have Burl wearing some nice clothes and all-she might not recognize him," Charlie suggested.

Teresa shook her head. "Even if she didn't recognize him right away, he's likely to say something outrageous. Or he would

eventually act odd. There's no helping that." She sighed again.

"What are we going to do?" Charlie asked, feeling helpless.

"I don't know. Maybe if Murdoch came, and talked to Mr. Silverman, that might be best. He might be able to convince them."

A gusty wind was suddenly sweeping up, and Teresa flapped the reins, driving back to the jail. Val was standing outside, having

left the jail door opened. He was lighting a cheroot, striking a match on the wall.

Charlie hopped down without waiting for Teresa.

"Hullo, Mr. Val," she greeted him.

"Hey there, girls," Val returned the greeting.

"We stopped by earlier," Teresa was saying.

"Yeah, I was out checking on some things," Val said.

"Did you let Burl out?" Charlie asked, unable to contain the question for a moment longer.

Val looked down at Charlie with a hard-to-read expression. "Yes, Charlie, I let him out," he said.

"Where did he go?" Charlie asked then.

"I don't know," Val said.

"Oh," Charlie said,

Teresa began telling Val about the Silverman's house being available for rent, and about the money that had been gotten

by the sale of the brocade.

"Murdoch thought you could keep it here," Teresa was saying. "That way, when Burl needs it, it would be right here in town."

Val nodded. "I'll put it in the safe. Come on in."

He and Teresa went on inside, while Charlie stood there, on the sidewalk, thinking.

She turned after a few minutes and went inside, too, going to watch as Val put the money into the small safe behind his desk, and

then closed the door again.

"Where do you think he might have gone?" she asked.

"With that ornery old-" Val began, and then paused, thinking better of his chosen words. "It's hard to say," he amended.

"He's a free spirit," Teresa said.

Charlie looked from Teresa to Val, feeling frustrated. Didn't they understand how serious this was?

"Well, but, he can't just be roaming around, out there anywhere, by himself," Charlie protested.

"He'll turn up," Val said. "He knows he can come here now, to the jail, and get something to eat, or have a bit of company,

if he wants it."

Charlie left them standing there, and went back outside, looking up and down the streets, as if she were suddenly going to see

the old man.

After a few minutes, Teresa came out, as well, followed by Val.

"That's a powerful wind that's blowing up," Val said.

"Yes, we'd better be heading home," Teresa said. "I need to stop at the mercantile first, for a few minutes."

"I'll wait here," Charlie told her, and Teresa said, "Alright. Be right back," and walked on down the sidewalk.

Once alone with Val, Charlie looked up at him. "Does Burl have his gun?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"So he can go hunting," Charlie specified.L

"No," Val said, with a sigh. "I have his gun locked up here."

"Why?"

Val gave Charlie a steady, level look. "Because I felt it was best that he not have it, Charlie. For everyone's safety, including

his own." His tone suggested, quite strongly, and without any doubt, that he was growing weary of questions from her.

"Oh," Charlie said, subsiding a bit at that tone of his. Still, she felt she had to point out, in Burl's defense, "He's really

gentle, most of the time."

"Most of the time, yes," Val said. "It's that amount of time that he's _not_ gentle that I'm concerned with."

Charlie sighed, admitting defeat. In this, at any rate. "Yes, sir," she said.

L

Once in the buggy, and on the road trotting thru town, Teresa held out a small brown sack.

"Take one," she offered, and Charlie pulled out one of the peppermint sticks.

"Thank you," she said.

"What's wrong?" Teresa asked.

"It was a waste of time today," Charlie lamented. "We didn't find Burl a house, and-we didn't even get to see him, and make sure

he's alright!"

"You're looking at it all wrong," Teresa said. "We took the money to Val, and we _did_ talk to the Silverman's, and, at least you

know Burl isn't sitting, cooped up in the jail cell."

"Yes," Charlie admitted, licking the peppermint stick.

Teresa eyed the sky. "It looks as though we're going to get a real storm."

Charlie, too, looked at the black clouds rolling by. They were nearing the end of the town's street, when Charlie saw

Burl, limping along, nearly in the trees on the other side of the road.

"Teresa, it's Burl," she said, and pointed.

"What's he doing?" Teresa said, more in question to herself, than to Charlie.

"Can we go and say hello?" Charlie pleaded.

Teresa looked considering. "I suppose we can, for a minute."

As the buggy pulled up alongside of where Burl was tramping along, Charlie called out to him.

"Burl! Hullo!"

The old man looked up and seemed to recognize the girls at first glance. He gave a wave, and then walked to a nearby

tree, picking up the rifle that was leaning there.

"Val said he kept his rifle at the jail," Charlie said, in an aside to Teresa.

"Well, he must have had another," Teresa said.

Burl came thru the knee high grass to lean a knarled hand on the side of the buggy. "As bright and shiny as a new penny, are

the two faces who should see many," he greeted them.

"How are you?" Teresa asked him.

"I'm as fresh as a daisy, and nowhere near as lazy," he quipped, and Charlie couldn't help the spurt of joy she felt

at his lyrical mood.

"Where are you off to?" Teresa asked him.

"To check my traps," Burl said.

"There's a storm coming," Teresa said.

Burl cast an appraising glance at the darkening sky. "Not for a bit yet," he predicted.

"I've got somethin' for the two of you gals," he went on, with a smile showing his blackened teeth. "Carry me out to my place,

and I'll fetch it."

 _To his place?_ Charlie exchanged a look with Teresa. Teresa herself was looking unsure.

"Your things are in at the jail, though," Teresa said, gently. "Val's keeping them for you. Remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Burl waved a hand. "That fella is alright. He's a good sort. I still got some things out at my place, though."

"Well," Teresa said, hesitating, and then, spry as you please, Burl was climbing up into the buggy with them. Charlie moved

over to the center, to make room, and Burl laid the offending rifle across his knees.

"I'm thinkin' to make me some rabbit stew," he was saying. "Likely I've got me some rabbits in my traps."

Teresa turned the buggy towards the road going out to the shack.

"You two gals can stay for some rabbit stew, can't ya?" he asked.

"We're expected at home," Teresa said.

"Well, I'll send one with ya, then," Burl said. "You can cook it up when ya get home."

When they neared the shack, Burl turned quiet. Pensive. Silent. It was almost as though you could feel tension radiating from

him. Charlie felt it, and she wondered if Teresa did, too. Maybe it was because she was the one sitting next to him.

The shack looked properly deserted. It had been cleaned up around the yard, and some obvious repairs had been made.

Teresa parked the buggy, and Burl jumped to the ground. He went to the door, carrying the rifle, and tried the door. It was

obviously locked, and he turned back to look at Teresa and Charlie, sitting there in the buggy.

"Come on, gals," he called out. "I wanna give ya both somethin'!" He disappeared around the corner of the shack.

Charlie looked at Teresa, who looked as though she wanted to be anywhere but where she was.

"How did we get into this mess?" Teresa said, almost to herself.

"Can't we see what he wants?" Charlie asked.

"We shouldn't be here at all. It's trespassing," Teresa said. "Burl's carrying a rifle that Val doesn't know that he has, and you're

worried about getting a present from him!"

"It's not that," Charlie said, in protest, feeling misunderstood. "That's not what I meant!"

Teresa sighed. "I know."

After a few moments, Charlie said, "Are we just going to sit here, in the buggy like this?"

"I think so, yes. I hate to leave him here, but, I also don't think we should get out and follow him to goodness knows where."

A battering of raindrops began, lightly, and then stopped.

"Where did he go?" Teresa asked, sounding frustrated, and looking around.

"To check his traps," Charlie reminded. "He could be awhile."

"A few more minutes, and then we're leaving," Teresa said.

Teresa heard before she saw, the two men riding down the road towards the shack on horseback. And, they rode right up

into the yard.

"Oh, Lord," Teresa said, under her breath.

"I don't know them," Charlie said, very low.

"No," Teresa agreed. "Just stay quiet. Don't say anything about Burl being here."

One man rode on one side of the buggy, and the other man rode onto Charlie's side.

"Well, good afternoon, ladies," the one on Teresa's side spoke first.

"Good afternoon," Teresa said.

"Are you lost, or turned about?" he asked.

"We stopped to rest the horse," Teresa said, smoothly. "The wind was making him nervous."

"Uh huh. Well, this is private property," he went on.

Charlie wondered if one of the men was the _Mr. Blaine._ The legal owner.

"We only stopped to rest the horse," Teresa said, again her voice not showing any emotion.

The man on Charlie's side of the buggy inched forward. "Come on now, Jess," he said. "Don't seem as though there's any

harm bein' done. You could be a bit more hospitable."

That man, the friendly one, was smiling at Teresa. "My name is Jason Stewart, ma'm."

"I'm Teresa O'Brien," Teresa replied.

"Little gal your sister?" the man asked.

"That's right. This is Charlotte."

"You live 'round here, do ya?" the first man asked. He still looked irritated at finding them there, and Charlie felt her

stomach knot up. Something wasn't right. She could feel it. That was verified even further by Teresa's next words.

"Yes, we do. Right in the center of town," Teresa said.

"That right?" the friendly man asked.

"Yes," Teresa said, as confidently as though she wasn't lying thru her teeth. Charlie tried to keep her expression nonchalant. For some

reason, Teresa didn't want the two men to know that they lived at Lancer, or were affiliated with Murdoch or Scott or Johnny.

"We don't care to have any noses bein' poked 'round here," the unfriendly man said.

"Shut up, Jess," the friendlier one said.

"We're not doing any 'poking around'," Teresa said, with spirit. "We just stopped to let the horse calm down, like I said before."

She took up the reins. "And, now we'll be going," she said.

"No need to rush off," the 'Jason Stewart' said.

"Yes, we're expected at home," Teresa said. "They'll be coming out looking for us soon."

Raindrops began to spatter again, and Teresa began to urge the horse forward, and both men rode up to block the buggy. Charlie took

a deep intake of breath.

"I think I've seen you around town," the friendlier one said. "You were with some fella, with black hair."

And, then, suddenly, things went much more wrong, very quickly.

"You men there!" came a holler. "Turn loose of that buggy!"

Burl was standing there, on the porch of the old shack, rabbits from the traps dropped at his feet, and the rifle leveled

at the group.

"It's that loony old coot," one man said to the other.

"I said to turn it loose," Burl repeated.

Both men released their holds on the buggy, and Charlie saw one of them rest his hand on the gun in his gun belt. She sucked

her breath in and reached for Teresa's hand.

Burl said, in a forceful, steady voice of a much younger man, "Take your hand off that pistol, son, lessen you want to lose a

finger or two."

The man moved his hand back to rest on his leg.

"You're not to be 'round here, old man," he called out to Burl.

Burl didn't respond to that. He gestured to the side with his rifle. "Step down, both of ya."

The two men exchanged glances, and then dismounted.

"Alright, you gals, clear on out of here," Burl said. "Get to home 'fore the storm rides in."

Charlie held her breath as Teresa turned the buggy, going forward and around the man to the left, and made

a beeline down the road. She was urging the horse into as high a speed as was possible, and then at the turn into town, she eased up,

pulling to a stop, and looking back, though they were too far away to see.

"Golly," Charlie said, letting out her breath in a whoosh.

"Yes, golly," Teresa muttered in agreement. She began to trot again, as the rain began. Charlie knew without asking that

Teresa was going to the jail office, to fetch Val.

Once there, they were both out of the buggy swiftly, and went into the jail office, to find Val and Dan, his deputy, facing

the checkerboard.

Val was on his feet nearly immediately. "What is it?" he asked.

Teresa swiftly told him what was happening, and both of the men went to snatch up a rain slicker, and a rifle from the

gun cabinet.

"Should we go on home, or wait here?" Teresa asked.

"I want you to wait here," Val said. "Storm's nearly here."

"Murdoch will be getting worried about us," Teresa said.

"He'll come here to check first," Val said, tying his gun belt string.

"Who are the men? Do you know?" Val was asking, as Dan went on outside.

"No. I've never seen them," Teresa said.

"Old codger had a gun hidden someplace," Val said, almost as if to himself. "I should have known."

Charlie wanted to ask Val if Burl was going to be in trouble, for threatening the men with a gun, or trespassing, but she knew it wasn't the time.

When Val was gone, though, and Teresa had closed the door against the upcoming winds, Charlie said, "Is Burl gonna get

arrested for this? He was just trying to help us."

"I don't know," Teresa said, sounding regretful, and tired. She went to make a fresh pot of coffee.

After that, the two girls sat for what seemed an interminable amount of time, and Charlie went to the window, to

look out. By now, the rain was heavy, running in rows down the window.

"Murdoch's going to be frantic, worrying about us," Teresa said, with a sigh.

"Scott, too," Charlie said, feeling sad at the prospect of the Lancer men being consumed with worry.

"Yes. Scott, too. And Johnny. All of them," Teresa said, coming over to the window to look out as well.

"How foolish could I be," Teresa was saying, nearly to herself.

"It wasn't your fault," Charlie defended. "We didn't do anything wrong."

"I had no business taking Burl out there. I should have told him no and gone on home," Teresa said.

"Well, even if we hadn't been there, he might still have gotten into it with those two men," Charlie pointed out.

"Thanks, Charlie, but it was my fault. I'm the adult, and I'm the one who should have been thinking of what was best to do."

Teresa turned to walk back around the room, aimlessly, and after a few minutes, Charlie straightened up, peering out the window.

"Teresa, I think it's Scott coming!"

L


	72. Rain and worry

It was Scott. And Murdoch, as well. They were wearing long rain slickers, and Charlie went to pull the door open

before they were even off of their horses.

As soon as they were inside, and the door was closed again, against the wind and the rain, Charlie flung herself at Scott.

"Are you alright?" Scott was asking.

Charlie was nodding yes to that, and Teresa said, "We're alright."

Murdoch gathered Teresa up into a hug. "We were worried about you two. I'm glad you decided to wait the storm out here."

"Where's Val?" Scott asked, and Charlie looked to Teresa to explain.

Teresa did explain, telling them about what had happened, and where Val had gone. Murdoch looked stern and

forbidding, but Charlie knew by now that that oftentimes meant he was worried, and concerned.

Charlie kept her fingers hooked in Scott's belt loops, listening as Teresa explained it all; Burl's sudden appearance, with a

gun that Val knew nothing about; the two men's dark presence; all of it.

"Alright, you girls stay right here," Murdoch was saying.

Charlie held onto Scott's waist, reluctant to turn loose.

"We'll be back, quick enough," he told Charlie, and then, they were gone, out into the torrent of rain.

"What a day," Teresa said, standing at the window and watching them go.

"I wish we had some hot chocolate," Charlie said.

"I wish we were all at home in the kitchen drinking the hot chocolate," Teresa said.

L

It grew later and later, and though Teresa tried to get Charlie to go and lie down on one of the cots in the cells, Charlie

refused. She began to walk back and forth, picking at her cuticles.

"Charlie, come and sit down with me," Teresa urged, patting a spot on the bench.

"I want Scott," Charlie said, so softly it was nearly a whisper. She didn't think Teresa heard her, but she had because

she said, "Scott will be alright."

The door burst open and was closed, and another man stood there, wearing a rain slicker.

Both girls ran to him, clutching and talking at the same time.

"Just a minute," Johnny said. "One of you at a time do the talkin'."

Johnny listened while Teresa explained things, and then he said, "Alright. Here, pequeno, turn me loose a minute."

"Are you going, too?" Charlie asked, anxiously.

"Yeah, I'm goin'-"

"Don't, Johnny!" Charlie protested, clutching him.

"Charlie-" Johnny began.

"Don't," Charlie said, again, and suddenly she was frantically pulling at him. "I don't want you to go!"

Johnny bent so that he was on eye level with Charlie, and took hold of her shoulders. "Stop it, Charlie!" he ordered, and she

paused, taking in a deep breath. He shook her, but lightly, not harshly.

"I know you're scared, but it's gonna be alright," he said. "Now I want you to stay strong, and hold it together, you hear me?"

Charlie looked into his blue eyes, and found a way in them to calm down. She took some deep breaths, and

managed a nod of agreement. "Yes, Johnny."

"Alright," he said, standing to his full height again. "Take care of Teresa, alright?" he said, with a bit of a joking smile.

L

Charlie finally consented to sit beside Teresa, and they sipped at coffee, heavily laced with sugar, as the wind blew and

the rain fell outside.

When the door opened, and all five men came in, dripping wet, Val and Dan had Burl by one arm each, and, as Charlie jumped

up, they went past and toward the cells in the back.

Murdoch was the one who closed the door against the weather, and Teresa went to him. He took off his slicker and then tucked

Teresa close to his side. Scott was shucking his slicker, as well, and Charlie went to stand beside him, her eyes wide

with worry.

"What happened?" Teresa was asking, as, from the back there arose a horrible hollering. Caterwauling, Val would call it.

A sound of a human being in anguish. Charlie bolted to go towards the cells, but Scott reached out to catch her around

the waist.

"Scott-" Charlie protested, wriggling.

"Quit," Scott said. He said it kind enough, but he meant it. There was no mistaking the authority in his tone, and in

his hands, and Charlie stopped struggling.

Johnny went to close the door that separated the office from the hall to the jail cells, so that the noise from there

was muffled somewhat. But, only somewhat.

"Is he hurt? Did he get shot?" Charlie said, and Scott, still carrying her under one arm, went to sit down in one of the

office chairs.

"No. He didn't get shot. He's alright," Scott said.

"Why is he hollering that way?" Charlie asked, as he pulled her down to sit on his knee.

"He's just upset," Scott said. "He'll settle down."

Teresa was bringing cups of the strong, hot coffee to Murdoch, to Johnny, and to Scott, who took it from her

with a quiet, "Thank you, Teresa."

For a few moments, the five of them listened as the hollering from the back continued, and then the door opened,

and the doctor came inside.

"They're back there," Murdoch said, with a nod of his head.

The doctor walked past them all, thru the closed door, and then to the back.

Again, there was silence. And, then, Johnny spoke up, standing, and making his spurs jingle, "It's not a funeral. Everybody's

actin' as though it is."

"What happened with those two men?" Teresa asked.

"They're out there. At Burl's old place," Murdoch said.

"Was one of them the owner?" Teresa asked.

"No. His sons, from what I understand," Murdoch told her.

"Burl was just trying to help Teresa and me," Charlie said. "Is he in trouble?"

"Val's going to lock him up for the night," Scott said. "Have the doctor give him something to call him down."

"And then what?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know, kiddo," Scott said.

"I'd really like to go home," Teresa said, with a sigh.

"Then we shall," Murdoch said, standing up, and going to retrieve his slicker. "Put this on, sweetheart."

Teresa struggled into the man-sized slicker, as Murdoch said, "We'll take the buggy home," and Scott and Johnny nodded.

"Come on, darling," Murdoch said, motioning with his fingers to Charlie.

Charlie had her mouth opened to protest, when Val, Dan and the doctor came from the back.

The doctor stayed for a few minutes, saying that what he'd given Burl should have him sleeping thru the night in peace.

"The outbursts," the doctor said, with a shake of his head, "They seem to be getting worse."

"Yeah," Val said, with a sigh.

When the doctor had gone, Dan followed behind him, heading home for the evening to his wife, and Val went to pour himself

a cup of coffee.

"We'll be heading home," Murdoch said, his arm around Teresa's shoulders. "Teresa's weary. Ready, Charlie?"

Charlie turned to Scott, pleading with her eyes. "May I ride home with you?" she begged. "Please?"

"There's not gonna be any talking to Burl tonight, J.C.," Val warned.

"That's alright," Charlie said. "That's not why I want to stay-" She looked at Scott again. "I just want to ride with Scott."

"We'll see you at home, Murdoch," Scott said then, and Charlie knew she had permission.

After that, she sat on Scott's knee, while he drank cups of the coffee, and the three of the men talked quietly. Not

about Burl, or what had happened. A short while later, Johnny and Scott prepared to leave, as well. Instead of having Charlie

attempt to wear his rain slicker, as Murdoch had done with Teresa, Scott had her wrap it around herself, and then had

Johnny hand her up, to sit in front of Scott in the saddle.

"You'll get so wet," Charlie protested, as they set out. The wind had died down, so her voice carried.

"Maybe I'm part duck," Scott said, near to her ear. "And the rain will just roll right off my back."

Charlie twisted to look back and up at him in the lights of the street. "A duck?" she asked.

"Right." As soon as he'd put the horse into a gallop so as to get home swiftly, Scott leaned to her ear again.

"Quack, quack," he said, and Charlie giggled, feeling safe for the first time since the altercation with the men at Burl's.

L

At home, while Johnny prepared hot chocolate and they all sat in the cozy kitchen, drinking it, and talking quietly.

Charlie was still nearly attaching herself to Scott's side. She was warm now, and dry, but still reluctant to get too far from

him. She was mostly quiet, listening as the four adults conversed.

Teresa asked Murdoch to talk to the Silverman's, about renting to Burl. Talk turned to work for the next day, and

Charlie sighed, not realizing that she'd done so.

"What is it, darling?" Murdoch asked.

There was so much on her mind, and so much that she was thinking of, and worrying, but Charlie only

sighed again, and said, vaguely, "I don't know."

The adults exchanged glances and Scott said, quietly, "You're tired." He patted her hip. "Go up and get ready for bed."

"Okay," Charlie said, and stood up, going to give Teresa, Murdoch and Johnny hugs. She went up the stairway, still thinking. Once in her nightgown, she began to

count out her money that she'd saved into tidy rows on the bed.

When Scott came up, he paused at the door. "Did I leave the book up here last night when we read?" he asked.

"Yes," Charlie said, gesturing to the night table. "It's there."

Scott came and sat down on the edge of the bed, as Charlie began to pick up her coins again.

"You've saved some, huh?" he asked. "That's good."

"Sixty-five cents," Charlie said.

Scott nodded in approval. Then he reached into his pocket and sorted thru the coins, handing her two dimes and two nickels.

"There. Add that to it. It's close enough to tomorrow for your allowance day."

"Thank you," Charlie said. "Ninety-five cents, now."

"What are you going to do with all those riches?" Scott asked, teasing. "Keep saving, I hope?"

"I was just thinking-" Charlie began, and then paused. She put the money back into her small coin purse, and laid it on

her night table. "I think I'll save it for a little while."

"Good."

He took the book, opened it to the marked spot, and began to read. When he stopped, he said, "Get settled in."

Charlie scrambled to get underneath of the quilt. Then she sat, twisting the fabric between her fingers.

"Do you think the Silverman's will rent their house to Burl?" she asked. "If Murdoch asks them?"

"I don't know. There's a possibility that they won't want to."

"If they don't, then what can he do?" Charlie asked, biting at her bottom lip.

"I don't know the answer to that, either, kiddo. I wish that I did have an answer."

There was quiet for a couple of moments, and then Scott said, "Sometimes, when a person suffers in the way that Burl

is right now, with confusion, and outbursts, they go to a place called a sanitarium."

"What's that?" Charlie asked.

"It's like a hospital, but for the person's mind," Scott said.

"Oh," Charlie thought about that for a moment. "And they get better, like people get better at a regular hospital?"

"Sometimes, they do. And, sometimes," he added, "They don't."

"Why?"

"Doctors don't know a lot about certain problems of the mind," Scott said, choosing his words carefully. "Sometimes, it's

just luck if a person responds to treatment."

"Do you think Burl should go to a sanitarium?" Charlie asked, watching his face carefully.

"I-" Scott began, and then he seemed to hesitate, looking considering. "I don't know, Charlie."

"If he did, there's a chance at least that he would get well, right?"

"There's a chance," Scott said, in reply. "Lay down now."

Charlie obediently laid down, and Scott tucked the quilt up around her.

"If I ask you something, will you tell me?" Charlie asked, tentatively.

"If I can."

"I mean, you won't think I'm too young or that I wouldn't understand?" Charlie persisted.

"I guess I won't know all that until you ask me the question," Scott said.

"Why was Burl hollering and wailing like that tonight, when you all got back?"

Scott regarded her seriously for a long few moments. "Once Val convinced him to lower his gun off the two men, then he

asked them to ride out for a bit, and he let Burl go inside, and look around. Sort of a 'goodbye' to the place. It was as though

Burl understood in that moment that he wouldn't be able to come back there to live. When it was time to go back to town,

he got more upset. He started asking where he'd be able to take Lettie, since they couldn't stay there any longer."

"Oh," Charlie said, in a small voice.

Scott waited, quiet, as she turned that over in her mind.

"He really thought that Lettie had been there with him?" Charlie asked.

"I guess he did."

"Who do you think Lettie was?" Charlie asked him. "His wife, or his sweetheart? Or his daughter?"

"I don't know. Whoever she was, he surely loved her with everything he has," Scott said. He leaned over to turn down

the lamp.

L


	73. Set-to

Charlie awoke Saturday morning with an idea. A stellar idea, she thought. She went to Teresa first, to enlist her

support and aid. Teresa then went to Murdoch, just as the family were gathering at the breakfast table.

The plan being, to go into Val's office, and invite him out to the ranch for supper, and for him to bring Burl along.

"Charlie and I will do all the cooking preparation," Teresa was saying.

Murdoch stood beside his chair, and looked at Teresa. "Burl's a lot to handle," he began.

"That's why we're inviting Mr. Val," Charlie contributed, and Murdoch raised an eyebrow.

"I doubt that Val would appreciate that he's only being invited to manage Burl," Murdoch said.

"I didn't mean it like that," Charlie said, turning warm with embarrassment.

"I know, darling," Murdoch said, reaching out to cup the side of Charlie's face. "I'm only teasing you."

"Is it alright?" Teresa continued, looking to Murdoch for permission.

"What do you think?" Murdoch asked, looking to Scott and Johnny. "Can we count the two of you in?"

"I've got plans around supper time," Johnny said. "But, I'll be back home maybe before Val leaves."

"It sounds alright to me," Scott said, in acceptance of the plan.

"Can I be the one to ride into town, and give Val the invitation?" Charlie asked, at large, looking at Scott mostly.

"May I?" Scott corrected.

"May I?" Charlie corrected, sure now that the answer was going to be yes.

"I think that would be alright," Scott said, and Charlie sat down to her breakfast, feeling happy. The day was

starting off hopeful. It got even better before Charlie left the house for town. Beets arrived, in a rented buggy, full of

high spirits. He greeted them all with enthusiasm, saying that he thought he'd make a quick visit, due to having some

papers for Scott to sign.

For just a moment or so, Charlie felt frightened. Could it be something gone wrong with the guardianship? She tried to tell herself

that she was being foolish. Mr. Beets was in too fine of a mood for something as dire as that. And, it would, indeed be dire.

Still, she had to ask. Scott didn't appear surprised about having papers to sign, and Charlie took that to be encouraging. Scott

wouldn't be so calm if it was something bad...

"It's nothing wrong, is it?" Charlie asked, pausing in front of Mr. Beets and Scott.

"No, Charlotte, nothing wrong," Mr. Beets said, in assurance. "Just some customary things."

"Okay. Good," Charlie said, letting her breath out.

"Come on home as soon as you've talked to Val, alright?" Scott told her.

"Yes. I will."

The roads to town were muddy from the rains the night before. In town, there seemed to be more people than was

usual. Then Charlie remembered it was, indeed, Saturday morning. Lots of folks came to town on Saturday mornings.

She went to the jail, and inside. Val greeted her with a smile.

"You might as well take up residence here, young'un," he said. "You're here often enough."

Charlie smiled at his teasing, and then issued the supper invitation.

"Well-" Val said, hesitating as if in thought.

"Please, Mr. Val?" Charlie pleaded.

"Well, what are we going to have to eat? If I do decide to accept, that is," Val said, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Fried chicken. And biscuits. And applesauce cake."

"Sounds darn fine. Alright, J.C., the old fella and I will be there. What time?"

"Teresa said five o'clock," Charlie said.

"Alright."

"Can I say hello to Burl?" Charlie asked, then.

"He's still sleepin'. Whatever Doc gave him last night sure put him out."

"Oh. Okay," Charlie said, disappointed, but thinking that she would see Burl soon enough.

L

When she left the jail, Charlie went to the general store, thinking she would take a quick look to see if there were any new

books in. There weren't any, and she was debating whether to buy some candy, when Lucy came in with her father. She

immediately came over to stand near Charlie.

"Hi, Charlie," she said, in greeting.

"Hi, Lucy."

"Did you hear that we're not having school next week, either?"

"We're not?" Charlie asked.

"No. Miss Susan can't teach. She has to take her mother to Stockton, cause her mother's still not well, and she's going to

go visit with her sister. With Miss Susan's mother's sister, not Miss Susan's sister," Lucy clarified.

Not for the first time, Charlie thought how Lucy could talk, and talk, and _talk._ Anyway, she didn't mind so much about

having some more days off of school. That was, if Lucy knew what she was talking about for certain.

"Do you know for sure?" Charlie asked.

"My father's on the school board," Lucy said, sounding important. "He knows about it."

"Oh," Charlie said, and started walking outside. "Well, bye, Lucy."

"Wait, I'll walk with you," Lucy said, and called out to her father that she was going with Charlie.

Charlie wished she could have stopped Lucy from walking with her. Teresa told her all the time to be patient with Lucy, but

Charlie felt as though a little bit of Lucy went a very _long_ way, indeed.

"I have to be going back home," Charlie said, hoping to discourage Lucy.

"Come over to my house. We can swing on my swing. My mother was making cookies," Lucy invited.

"I can't," Charlie said. "I'm supposed to go straight home."

"Well, can't you come over, anyway? You can say that you decided to stay and play at my house."

For a moment Charlie was tempted to laugh at that. Maybe she could have gotten away with something like

that in Stockton. Well, for sure. Nobody would even have noticed if she was late arriving back when she lived in Stockton. For

a quick moment, Charlie felt a lump in her throat. Things were different now.

So, when she spoke, she felt secure and safe in speaking the words, "Scott would be awful angry with me. I can't."

"Aw, why?" Lucy said, beginning to pout. "Why is he so mean?"

"He's not mean," Charlie denied, heading towards where she'd left Gurth tied, as Lucy tried to keep up.

"Then come over," Lucy persisted. "I'll even tell my mother to get us some root beer. Have you had root beer before?"

"Johnny got me some, awhile back."

"Well, come on, then."

Charlie paused in her walking. "I can't. I'll get into trouble."

"You said that Scott's not mean, though."

"He's not."

"Then if he scolds you, just cry, and he'll feel bad and stop. That's what I do," Lucy said, as if she was giving out a

valuable secret.

Charlie nearly laughed, and Lucy took offense.

"Why are you laughing at me?" she asked.

"It's just-that's so silly," Charlie said. "Scott would never-" she paused. "Anyway, I can't come. We're having company for

supper and I have to help get things ready."

"Who's coming?" Lucy asked, and Charlie thought she sounded a bit sad, and lonely.

So, she found herself softening, and answering nicely. "My friend, Mr. Beets, from Stockton, and Mr. Val, and Burl."

Lucy's eyes widened. "You're having _him_ at your house? For supper?"

"Sure. Why shouldn't we?" Charlie asked, bristling again.

"He has no place to live now," Lucy said, as if reporting something new.

"I know."

"He'll have to go somewhere else," Lucy said. "He's not stable-my mother said so. She said he needs to go to an

asylum."

"Asylum?" Charlie asked.

"Yes," Lucy said, and puffed up with importance at Charlie's interest. "You know, one of those places where they put folks when

their mind is gone. And they never get out."

"Burl's mind isn't gone," Charlie defended. "He just gets confused." She wasn't going to let on to Lucy anything about Burl's recent outbursts. "And

if he was to go to a sanitarium, he would get help there, and then he'd be fine, and come home again."

"Those places are called asylums," Lucy said, her tone superior. "And they're horrible places. I heard my mother-she said

they tie people up, and try to shock them into getting better, but it almost never works. And, then they stay there, and it's dirty,

and there's lots of rats and things-"

"Shut your mouth," Charlie said, suddenly furious.

Lucy blinked in shock. "What?"

"I said to _shut your mouth._ You don't know what you're talking about," Charlie said.

"You can't talk to me like that!" Lucy said, her blue eyes filling with tears.

"Yes, I can! You-you're just a silly girl that talks too darn much, and I wouldn't come to your house ever again,

not even if you were giving away gold coins for it!"

"I'm going to tell my mother!" Lucy cried, and turned to run up the sidewalk.

"Good! Your mother talks too much, too!" Charlie shouted after her.

L

Charlie found that she was shaking. From being so angry, she thought. And, the shaking did abate, a bit, by

the time she was halfway home again. But, she was still filled with fury. At Lucy. At Lucy's mother. And, at Scott, too, though

it hurt to admit it to herself. Why hadn't he told her all those things about the sanitariums? The rats, and the being tied up, and

how a person never got out? Maybe Lucy was just running off at the mouth again.

When Lancer was in her eye's view, she began to worry of another nature. If Lucy did tell her mother, and she was sure to

do just that, then her mother was likely to raise a fuss. Making her precious daughter cry, and then Charlie saying that she, the mother,

talked entirely too much, as well...

L

Charlie untacked her horse, and went to the barn loft to hold the kittens. It was some later when she heard Teresa calling

to her. She wanted to ignore her, but then thought better of it. Teresa had been awfully nice lately, and she didn't deserve to be

ignored. Charlie went to the loft opening.

"I'm up here," she called down.

Teresa shaded her eyes from the sun, looking up. "I thought you weren't back until I saw Gurth in the pasture. How long have you

been up there?"

"Not very long."

"Well, come on down. I need your help."

Charlie heaved a great sigh, but went to the ladder, taking the rungs to the bottom.

"Did Val say that they would come?" Teresa asked, once Charlie was standing beside her on the ground..

"Yes. He said they would be here by five."

"Alright. Good," Teresa said, and began walking towards the house, still talking. When she realized that Charlie wasn't following

behind her, she paused. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Lucy Stone. That's what's wrong," Charlie said, shortly.

"Oh, Lucy again. I've told you, she's a little spoiled-"

"A _lot_ _spoiled,"_ Charlie corrected.

"Alright. A lot spoiled. So what? You just be nice to her and go your own way."

"She-" Charlie paused, finding that she couldn't, or didn't want to go on. "Never mind."

"Alright. Well, come on, we've got to have a quick lunch ready, so we can clean this afternoon, and start supper

preparations."

Charlie followed Teresa sullenly to the house, and was helping prepare things when Scott came in.

He went to wash his hands, and said, to Charlie, "How was town?"

Charlie, from where she was sitting on the tall kitchen stool, chopping carrots, said only, shortly, "It was the same as usual," while

avoiding his eyes.

"Yeah?" Scott asked, looking at Charlie, puzzled. He met Teresa's gaze from where she stood, opposite Charlie, peeling apples. Teresa

gave a slight shrug in answer.

"Did you see Burl?" Scott asked, now, leaning against the cabinet, and drying his hands on a towel.

"He was asleep."

Scott laid the towel aside, and came over to stand closer to both of the girls.

"I thought we'd have an easy lunch in here," Teresa was telling Scott, "And then tonight, we'll do up the table in the dining room

really nicely."

"Sounds fine," Scott said.

"Are the others coming in soon?" Teresa asked.

"They're coming along, right behind me," Scott said.

"Good."

Scott eyed Charlie again, and then said, "Something bothering you, kiddo?"

Charlie hesitated the merest of moments, and then said, "I'm alright."

That wasn't answering his question. Charlie knew it, and she knew that Scott knew it, too. She waited for him to

say something more, but he was quiet, though he stood there, where he was, still looking at her.

"She had a go 'round with Lucy Stone," Teresa volunteered, and Charlie looked up from her carrot chopping to give

Teresa what was nearly a glare.

"That right?" Scott asked Charlie, sounding concerned.

"I don't want to talk about it," Charlie said, very quietly, and she looked up at Scott, though she looked over his shoulder,

and not at his eyes.

"Alright. We don't have to talk about it right now," Scott said. Charlie didn't miss that 'right now' part of his statement.

"I don't care about Lucy Stone!" Charlie said, and now she did look at him, and at Teresa and back to Scott again. "She's

a spoiled brat, and I don't care what Teresa says, I'm not going to be friends with her."

"All I said was to be nice to her-" Teresa began to protest, pausing in her apple peeling.

"Why doesn't somebody tell her to be nice?" Charlie pointed out. "I don't think anybody's ever told _her_ to be nice."

And, then, to Charlie's dismay and embarrassment, she found that she was perilously close to crying. She rubbed at her cheek,

angry at herself.

There were sounds at the back door, coming in, of others. Mr. Beets and Murdoch. Charlie could hear the jingle of Johnny's spurs, too.

"Why don't you go upstairs and wash your face," Scott told her quietly. "Calm down a little bit, and then come back down."

Charlie nodded, and hopped down from the stool, going thru the door and towards the stairs to her bedroom before any of the

others could see her face. It was bad enough, she thought, that Teresa and Scott had seen it. Scott was sure to want to know, later,

what exactly had happened to cause her to be so wrought up.

"I should have hidden it better," Charlie scolded herself.

It was just-well, just _hard_ to hide how she was feeling from Scott. Maybe it hadn't been quite so difficult at the beginning, but

now, well, it was _hard._

Charlie did wash her face, and the cool water helped her feel better. She sat on her bed for a few minutes, and then

she ran a hairbrush thru her hair, and went back downstairs, though slowly. She could hear voices from the kitchen, and laughter, too.

Charlie was quiet during lunch, not totally silent, because she didn't want to draw more attention to herself by not talking, but

still quieter than usual. She ate her lunch, answered when she was spoken to, and tried to keep her expression from showing

any upset.

As they were all finishing, and getting to their feet, Mr. Beets paused beside Charlie. "Perhaps we can go for a walk tomorrow," he

suggested. "Since you're busy helping Teresa this afternoon."

"Alright," Charlie said.

After that, when the two girls were the only ones in the house, they began cleaning, and straightening.

Charlie was to dust the library, and polish the dining room table. Teresa paused, her arms full of laundry from the

line, and said, hesitantly, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"No," Charlie said, curtly, as she gathered her dusting supplies.

"I'm sorry if I shouldn't have mentioned Lucy to Scott earlier," Teresa said.

Charlie shrugged. She wished Teresa hadn't done it, either. But, she didn't want to treat Teresa badly.

"I told Lucy to shut her mouth," Charlie admitted.

"Oh, Charlie," Teresa sighed.

"She was talking about things she shouldn't have been."

Teresa was quiet, looking regretful.

"And I told her that she talked too much, and that her mother talked too much."

Teresa rolled her eyes heavenward. "Why didn't you practice what I told you?"

At Charlie's puzzled look, Teresa reminded, "You know, imagine her in her petticoats being chased into the pond by

a goat."

"Oh, I forgot," Charlie said.

"What did she say that upset you so much?" Teresa asked.

Charlie hesitated. "Do you know anything about asylums?" she asked bluntly.

"Asylums?" Teresa asked, obviously puzzled. "What's that got to do with Lucy?"

"Do you?" Charlie persisted.

"Well, not really. I know what they are, obviously, but that's about all. Why do you ask?"

"Are they terrible places?" Charlie asked.

"Well, yes, I think they're pretty terrible," Teresa said.

"With rats?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know about that," Teresa said. "Why do you want to know that?"

"I don't wanna talk about it anymore," Charlie said, with a sigh, and went off to begin her dusting.

Teresa rolled her eyes heavenward again.

L

The house was clean, and welcoming when the men gathered in the library to await Val and Burl's arrival.

Teresa had coated the chicken with flour and was frying it, pushing her hair away from her hot face. The applesauce cake

was baking in the oven, and the biscuits were going in next.

"You can go and set the table," Teresa said. "Put that lace table runner down first, alright?"

"Okay," Charlie said, and she went to do that. She was spreading the table runner on one end when Scott came from the

library, a drink in his hand.

He set the glass down, and went to take the other end of the table runner, to spread it out.

"Table's going to look nice," he said.

Charlie stood at one end, looking down the long table to the other end, at Scott.

Into the momentary silence, Scott said, "Are you feeling some better than you were earlier?"

Charlie shrugged slightly. "I guess so," she said.

"You don't sound too sure," Scott said.

Another moment of quiet, exchanging a look, and Charlie said, "There's no school next week again. Miss Susan has

to take her mother to Stockton."

"Oh. You hear about that in town?" he asked.

Charlie nodded.

"We'll have to think of some lessons for you to do here at home, huh?" Scott asked. He'd been half-way joking, and

was prepared for Charlie to protest mildly or such.

Instead, Charlie only looked at him, and said, quietly, "I guess."

Scott came to stand near to her. "This is about more than a set-to with Lucy Stone, isn't it?"

Charlie met his eyes, and then nodded.

"Whatever it is sure seems to be bothering you a lot," he said. After a moment he reached out to run his hand

over her back. It was such a 'paternal' gesture. Charlie had seen Ann's father do it at a school picnic, and she'd even

seen Lucy's father do it while he'd been sitting with Lucy in a wagon in the school yard.

It was a gesture of pride, of comfort, that's what Charlie had determined from watching the

other girls with their fathers. And, now, in the moment of Scott rubbing her back that way, well, Charlie took the step or

two to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. For a long few moments, she didn't say anything. She just

hugged him, and looked up to meet his gaze.

"I need to talk to you about it," Charlie admitted.

"Alright. Do you want to do it now, before Val and Burl get here? Or later, before bed?"

"I have to set the table, and help Teresa finish the food-so later, before bed, I guess," Charlie said.

"Alright."

"I made the biscuits," she confided.

"Did you? Well, I hope you made enough, because I plan on eating at least a half dozen," Scott told her.

L


	74. Tales from Burl

Teresa's chicken was a perfect golden brown, and much appreciation was aimed towards Charlie's biscuits. All three of the

guests at the supper table ate heartily.

Burl, Charlie was relieved to see, seemed to be fine. He walked with his at times-customary limp, but his eyes were

clear, and he kept up with the table conversation. He told a story about a dress ball in the old country. Of the gentlemen dressed in top hats

and tails, and the ladies in satin and lace, with jewels around their necks.

"And the music we had-" Burl began, his voice nearly reverent.

His story delivery was near perfection. Charlie could tell that everyone was enjoying the story telling, complete with all the added embellishments.

Charlie listened, thinking that Burl seemed just fine tonight. His mind seemed fine. He didn't appear confused. He could talk about

the past in vivid detail, but he was also able to recognize those around the table. Though he stuck with the nicknames as opposed to

real names for some. 'Little gal' for Charlie; 'Gun-man' for Johnny; plain 'sheriff' for Val; 'sister' for Teresa. He addressed Murdoch and Scott by their

given names, and seemed to have no difficulty in knowing just where he was having supper.

When it was time to move to the library to visit, Mr. Beets appeared in the kitchen, and helped to do the dishes. Though Teresa told he

it wasn't necessary, he cheerfully took a drying towel and began wiping the washed dishes.

When they were finishing, and Teresa began to place cake plates on a large tray to carry, she paused to

say, "I'll take this in. Charlie, can you bring the coffee and some cups?"

"Okay," Charlie said, going to pull down another large platter.

"How are things, Charlotte?" Mr. Beets asked. "Going well?"

"Things are going well," Charlie said.

"Good. I'm pleased to hear it."

Charlie told him about the school being closed for a bit, as she placed cups and saucers on the tray.

Mr. Beets leaned against the counter, listening.

"I like your old friend, Burl," Mr. Beets said.

Charlie turned from lifting the coffee pot to give Beets a full-on smile. "Do you? Really?"

"I certainly do."

Charlie wondered if Mr. Beets would know anything about the asylums, but Teresa was bustling back into

the kitchen.

"Are you coming with the coffee?" she asked, and so Charlie didn't have the opportunity to ask Beets.

When Val and Burl had eaten their cake and visited for another hour, he announced it was time they were

heading back to town. Charlie, who'd been curled up, cross-legged on the floor, listening to more stories, was

sorry that the evening was over.

At the door, the little man bowed as if he was at one of those past parties, and took Teresa's hand in his.

"You and the little gal did a fine job on that meal, sister. I don't know when I've ever had better."

Teresa was obviously touched. "Thank you, Burl," she said, warmly. "I hope you'll come again."

"If I've the privilege of being asked, then I'll come again," Burl said, with all the grace of a monarch born.

"We'll ask again," Teresa said.

"Thank ya, little gal," he said to Charlie. He shook Murdoch's hand, and Scott's, and even Mr. Beets.

As he hustled Burl out the door, Val said quietly that Burl would be sleeping at the jail again, at least for the

foreseeable future.

"That's probably for the best," Murdoch said.

Charlie felt the good feelings of the evening draining away. Even though Val was kind enough to Burl, it just

didn't seem right that Burl had to live in the jail cell. It just didn't.

Teresa went back to the library, to begin clearing up the dessert plates, and cups, and told Charlie to come along

and help. Charlie went, but she moved slowly, and Teresa, tired from the day and evening, said, crossly, "Charlie, hurry up,

will you, please? I want to go upstairs to bed."

"Then go," Charlie replied, just as crossly. "Nobody's stopping you."

"I'll be glad to help tidy up," Mr. Beets said, and both girls turned, startled, to see the banker standing there. They hadn't heard

him walking in.

"Sorry you heard us fussing, Mr. Beets," Teresa said. Charlie could tell she was embarrassed. She, herself, felt a bit

embarrassed, too.

"It's been a long day and evening for you both," Beets said, giving excuse. "Besides, it reminds me of my days as a boy at home, with

my sisters."

Teresa smiled. "I'd like to hear some of those boyhood stories of yours, Mr. Beets."

"I'd be glad to share some," he laughed. "Not tonight, but perhaps another time."

L

Johnny was getting in from his evening out, and apologized for missing supper, as the family gathered in the kitchen, everyone

helping to carry dishes.

"You definitely missed out," Scott was saying to Johnny.

Johnny went to the counters, lifting the lid off the cake plate. "No cake left?" he lamented.

"Nope. Not a crumb," Scott said.

"And no biscuits left, either," Teresa told him.

"That will teach you to be gone when Teresa and Charlie are cooking up a big dinner," Murdoch said, with a laugh.

"I reckon it will, at that," Johnny said.

"There's probably a piece of two of chicken left," Teresa told Johnny. "If you're interested."

"I'm interested," Johnny said, and Teresa went to take a piece of the chicken that was covered with a cloth on the counter.

"Didn't you have a meal when you were out tonight?" Murdoch asked him.

"No. It wasn't that sort of an evening," Johnny said.

Charlie thought that was an odd sort of a remark.

"I believe I'll head up to bed," Mr. Beets said.

The family all said their goodnights to Beets, as he left the kitchen.

"So, it was a good evenin', then?" Johnny asked, from where he sat at the kitchen table, eating his piece of chicken. "The old

codger behaved himself?"

"He was fine," Teresa said. "He certainly ate well."

"So he's back with Val again at the jail, huh?" Johnny asked.

"That's right," Murdoch said.

"That's best," Johnny said, and Murdoch nodded.

They all, all four of them, seemed to Charlie as though they were in agreement on that. That staying in the jail was the best

place for Burl to live.

Charlie stopped what she was doing, which was stacking the cake plates. She turned so swiftly that she jarred Teresa's

arm, causing Teresa to drop the cup she was holding. The cup fell to the floor, and shattered.

"Charlie-" Teresa began, in response. She stopped, though, at the look on Charlie's face.

Charlie's expression went from startled at the shattered cup, to mutinous.

"You don't have to act as though I did it on purpose," Charlie said.

"I didn't mean it that way," Teresa said.

"Of course you didn't," Murdoch interceded smoothly. "It's no one's fault. It's a small matter, just a broken cup, is all." He stepped

over to retrieve the broom that leaned against the kitchen wall.

"I don't see why you all think that it's best that Burl lives in a jail cell!" Charlie said, in a burst of feeling.

Murdoch and Teresa paused in the sweeping up of the glass, and all four of the adults in the room focused

their attention on Charlie.

"Nobody said that," Scott told her, his tone a warning.

"Johnny did! He said it was best, and you all agreed with him," Charlie persisted. "I don't see how you all can think that!"

"Hey-" Johnny began, in protest.

"Alright, Charlie, that's enough," Scott said, sternly.

Charlie subsided, but still looked mutinous.

"Scott-" Johnny said, holding up a hand. "I've got this." He wiped his fingers on his pants, and then half-stood, to reach

out and grasp Charlie's hand. Enough to pull her over to him, as he sat back down on his chair.

"I said it was for the best, pequeno," Johnny said, holding her in place so she had to look into his eyes. "I meant for tonight

it's best. And tomorrow, and maybe the whole next week, too. I wasn't sayin' that I think it's the best for Burl-permanently."

"Of course not," Murdoch said. "Things will need to be arranged differently at some point." He gave Charlie a long

hard look. "Val is trying to help in this situation, Charlie."

"Yeah. He's not the bad guy here, pequeno," Johnny added.

"I know," Charlie said, feeling miserable.

"Have you thought about what might happen, if Burl was left on his own?" Murdoch asked Charlie. "He might really hurt

someone, and then Val would be put in the position of actually having to arrest him. If Burl committed a serious crime, it

might be taken out of Val's hands, and Burl could be brought before a judge and sentenced to prison. I know you don't want

that to happen."

Charlie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.

"It's just-" she began, and then hesitated.

"Just what?" Johnny prompted.

Charlie bit at her lower lip, and then shook her head again. "I'm sorry for being mean about it to you, Johnny."

"Make me some biscuits, and we'll call it even," Johnny said.

Charlie wrapped her arms around his neck. "I will!"

"Time for bed, Charlie," Scott said, from behind her.

Charlie stood up, and went to Murdoch. "I'm sorry for acting that way."

Murdoch gave her a hug. "You have some rest. You'll feel better."

Charlie paused beside Teresa. "Teresa-" she began.

"It's alright," the dark haired girl told her. "We're both tired. That's all."

L

Scott paused at the bottom of the stairs, as Charlie began her way up.

"I'll be up in a few minutes," he told her.

"Okay," Charlie said, sighing a bit. She went up the stairs, and went to wash, and get into her nightgown.

When Scott did come, Charlie was sitting on her bed, with her legs tucked up underneath, her hands folded together.

He paused in the doorway, for just a moment, looking at her, and then he turned to close the door.

Usually, he left the door half-way open, when he came up to read with her at bedtime.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked, tremulously.

"No. You're not in trouble," he said, and came to sit on the edge of the bed. "I do want to have a talk with you, though."

Charlie watched him, worriedly. A talk, put just that way, sounded like trouble to her.

"You have a good heart, Charlie," Scott began, and Charlie thought for a moment that it might be alright after all.

"When you met Burl, you saw him as a person who needed some help. And, you were correct about that. Now, though,

he has some others to help him, besides you. All of us, and Val, and the doctor. Right?" Scott said.

Charlie nodded, still not sure what point Scott was striving to make yet.

"I think," Scott said, slowly, "That it's become a good bit bigger than what it seemed to be at the beginning, though. Burl

needs _a lot_ of care, Charlie. Considerably more than what was obvious when we first met him."

Charlie felt a knot tightening in her stomach. Both Scott's words, and the expression on his face seemed foreboding.

"It's not Burl's fault, though, Scott," Charlie protested.

"I know that," Scott acknowledged. "I'm not saying that it is. What I am saying, is what I see happening with _you._ You spend

too much of your time worrying about him, thinking about what to do for him, and then getting upset when things don't happen

with him the way that you think they should happen."

"I apologized to everyone downstairs," Charlie said, in defense, but her voice was quiet.

"I know you did, and I'm glad about it. That's not quite what I'm getting at, though," he said. He sighed, and then took

her wrist and gave her a small tug. "Come over here and sit next to me."

Charlie let him pull her up, and over, until she was sitting next to his side.

"Why haven't you asked to have Rebecca over for the day, like we discussed once before? Or asked to go fishing with

your friends after school?" he asked. He gave her an intent look, and continued, "Probably because all that you think about

is Burl, and whether or not Val, or Teresa, or any of us, are doing things the way that you think is best."

And, though he had his arm around her waist, and was speaking kindly, Charlie felt like squirming under

his intenseness.

"I want you to try concentrating on some other things. Will you do that?" Scott asked.

"Like fishing?" Charlie asked.

"Fishing. Your handwriting. Your chores. Your reading. Your piano. All of those," he said, quietly.

Charlie suddenly felt like crying. "Can I still visit him, though?" she asked, pleadingly.

"Of course you can. Just-not every day, like you have been. As long as he's at Val's. If he's not there, then I doubt

if you can visit. At least not without one of us with you."

"You mean, like only visit him on a schedule or something like that?" Charlie asked.

"Let's say, since you saw him today, then you can go by the jail and visit him-" Scott paused, thinking.

"On Tuesday. For thirty minutes or so. Then, after Tuesday, maybe later on in the week, or on Saturday. Just make sure you talk to

me about it first, so nobody's worrying about where you are."

Charlie looked away from him, and down at her hands, picking at her fingernails. She felt frustrated, and _misunderstood._

"Do we have a deal?" Scott asked.

"If I stop trying to meddle in the adult part of it, _then_ could I not be on a schedule for visiting?" Charlie asked, sweeping her

huge brown eyes up to his face.

Scott sighed. "Have you not understood anything that I've been saying?"

"I understand," Charlie said.

Scott's expression changed at that point, from patient to set. Intractable. "You just don't _agree_ with any of it, is that it?" he asked.

Before Charlie could respond, Scott said, "If I sounded as though I was making suggestions, Charlie, then that was wrong

of me. I'm not suggesting. These are the new rules in this situation. You're to mind what I've told you."

Her brown eyes met his gray-green ones. It was a stand-off, so to speak. Charlie let her gaze flicker away from his, and

sighed.

"Okay," she said, reluctantly.

"Alright. What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, then.

Charlie suddenly found that she did not want to talk about the asylums, or what Lucy had said, or why Scott had called them

sanitariums, or any of that. Included in the topics she no longer wanted to discuss was her set-to with Lucy.

Charlie shrugged, and picked at her fingernails again. "It's not anything too much," she said vaguely.

"It seemed as though it was something earlier today," Scott reminded her, and Charlie could tell that he wasn't fooled or

put off by her comment.

Realizing that he was not going to just let her off the hook, Charlie turned slightly to face him.

"You said that Burl might have to go to a sanitarium," Charlie began, and then paused.

"Yes. I said that." He waited.

"Is a sanitarium like an asylum?" Charlie asked, and there was a bit of a challenge in her tone.

"There's some similar things," Scott said.

"Like rats?" Charlie asked, tilting her chin.

Scott was surprised by her challenging tone, and he didn't miss the flash in her eyes.

"What are you getting at, Charlie?" he asked, deciding to cut to the chase.

"Lucy said her mother said that Burl should go to an asylum," Charlie burst out. "And that there are rats there, and

that they tie people to chairs, and-treat them really badly! And she said people go in those places and never come out!"

Scott ran his fingers over his forehead, and then he took her hands, tugging her down, and standing her in front of him, still holding

her hands.

"Lucy's mother is correct about some of those things. Some of the ways the treatments are done, can seem very cruel. I don't know

for positive about the rats, but I would imagine that can be true, too. As far as going in and never getting well enough to come out,

that's not definite. Sometimes people respond to the treatments, and can live more normal lives. Asylums and sanitariums are

different in the aspect of-" Scott hesitated. "Asylums are mostly for very poor people. Those that have no family, or any money

resources."

Charlie laid her hands on Scott's upper arm, feeling more hopeful. "But sanitariums aren't like that?" she asked, brightening

somewhat.

"Well, they're not places of great comfort, or beauty, but-" he hesitated. "They're some better than asylums, I think."

"And Burl could go to one of those?" Charlie continued. "Because he has money from what Teresa sold for him! And there's

other things in the trunks that could be sold, too, to help pay for his stay at the sanitarium!"

"I don't know if he needs to go for certain," Scott clarified. "That would be something that the doctor will decide. But, if he

does need to go, then, yes, he should have some funds to provide for better care."

"That's good!" Charlie said, smiling and hugging Scott around his neck. She felt better than she had since that morning. "That's really good,

Scott!"

Scott patted her back, and eased her up to look into her face, stunned at her back-and-forth emotions.

"So this is what the squabble with Lucy was about?" Scott clarified. "The fact that her mother said Burl should go to

an asylum?"

Charlie's smile faded. "Mostly."

"Just mostly," Scott said, dryly. "So, what else, then?"

"She shouldn't be saying that," Charlie maintained.

"It's her opinion, Charlie. Just because you don't agree with it, doesn't mean that it's not allowed. You can hear differing

views about things, and not fly off the handle about it. Especially concerning an adult's view."

His tone was in scold mode again, and Charlie sighed. She suddenly felt very tired.

"Yes, Scott," she said.

"So, what else?" he asked, again.

L


	75. Untangle

Charlie hesitated. Reluctant. Very reluctant.

"Let's hear it," Scott said, tersely. "It's been a long day."

"I told Lucy to shut her mouth," Charlie admitted. "I told her she talks too much."

For a long, long few moments, Scott was silent, just looking at her intently, and Charlie felt like disappearing.

"It was hard-hearing her say those things about the asylums, and Burl-" Charlie began to make excuse.

"I'm sure that it was," Scott said.

For a second, and only that, Charlie was hopeful. Maybe he wasn't going to scold her further for it.

"What did I just tell you, though? About other people, and when they say things you don't like?" he prompted.

"That they're entitled to their opinion," Charlie admitted.

"And what can you do if what they're saying bothers you, or you disagree with it, or it makes it angry?" he went on.

Charlie sighed. "Choose not to react. Walk away."

"Right. Is it really important to any of us, what Lucy repeats, or what her mother thinks of Burl?" Scott asked, pointedly, but still kindly. "Is what

they say or think going to change the way we feel about him?"

"No," Charlie admitted. "It's not."

His expression was serious, and it seemed to Charlie as though he was still scolding her, though he wasn't saying a word at the moment.

"We need to work on you controlling your temper," Scott said.

Charlie wasn't sure she liked the sound of that at all. What did he mean, _we_ need to work on it?

And she needed to tell him the rest, as well. About how she'd told Lucy that Mrs. Stone talked too much, too. If Lucy told

her mother what Charlie had said about her, then Mrs. Stone might say something to Scott, and then it would as though

Charlie had kept some of it from him.

"I'll try harder," she said. "And I'll start doing the walking away, if I don't like what someone is saying." She wanted Scott to

think she was listening and taking it seriously.

"For another kid that's right," Scott clarified. "If an adult is saying something to you, even if you disagree, you need to wait until they're finished

talking, and stay respectful."

"Yes," Charlie said.

"That's a start," he said.

Charlie nibbled at her lip, considering whether to confess the rest. It was a gamble.

"Into bed," Scott said, sounding tired.

Charlie scrambled up onto her bed, and under the quilt, still sitting up. Scott reached to pick up the book on the nightstand table.

"I'm going to read just a couple of pages tonight, alright?" he said. "We're both tired."

He read those two pages, and then marked the page, and laid the book on the table once again.

"Slide down under there," he told Charlie, and she laid down. As he was tucking the quilt around her, Charlie,

in a burst of courage, or not-really courage, said, "I told Lucy that her mother talks too much, too."

Scott gave her a long look, and Charlie held her breath.

"Like I said, we need to work on controlling that temper," he said.

"What does that mean?" Charlie asked, not sure she wanted to know.

"We'll talk about it more later on," he said. He leaned over and kissed Charlie on the forehead, and then turned down the lamp.

L

Mr. Beets went with them to church the next morning, riding with Murdoch in the buggy. Charlie rode with Scott on

horseback, and Teresa and Johnny both elected to stay at home.

Charlie wished she could have stayed at home, as well. When it was being discussed as they all finished breakfast, she

had approached it, after hearing that Teresa was staying home to bake, and to rest.

"May I, too?" she asked, looking at Scott as they all stood and pushed in their chairs. "Stay home?"

"No. You're coming to church," Scott said, without a moment's hesitation.

Charlie swallowed down her protest, not wanting to utter it where Mr. Beets might hear. Or Murdoch.

When the two men had walked on, out of the dining room, Charlie caught Scott as he began to follow them.

"I'm tired, too, Scott, just like Teresa is-" she said, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Scott regarded her seriously, and then, with no apparent sympathy, he said, "Well, then, after church, and lunch and your time with Beets,

you can take a nap."

Charlie felt mutinous, and she wanted to stamp her foot.

"Go on and get into your dress for church," Scott said.

He turned again to follow Beets and Murdoch, and Charlie started out of the dining room the opposite way towards the

stairs.

She muttered, " _Not fair"_ under her breath.

"Charlie," Scott said, sharply, and Charlie stopped walking, turning to face him. He had his hands on his

hips, and was frowning. Charlie regretted those muttered words immediately.

"Do we need to go upstairs and have a discussion about proper behavior, before we leave for church?" he asked.

 _A discussion._ Charlie shook her head.

"No."

"Come here," Scott said, and Charlie walked the short way to him, feeling herself getting less feisty as she went.

When she was in front of him, he took her chin in his hand. "You're going to church, and you're going to behave yourself," he said.

"You can turn your attitude around and have a better morning, or we can go up and have that discussion." He paused

to let his words sink in. "Which is it going to be?" he asked.

"I'll behave," Charlie said, quietly.

"Alright. Go get changed," Scott said, and took his hands from her chin.

Charlie was at the bottom of the stairs, beginning to head up, when she saw Mr. Beets, standing there. She felt her

face flame hot, knowing that he must have heard what had taken place. Charlie paused, looking at Mr. Beets,

and he gave her a look that seemed, though not sympathetic, was not unkind.

Charlie wondered what he thought of Scott threatening to spank her that way. Probably, she thought glumly, he

thought Scott was correct.

She averted her eyes from Mr. Beets, and said, "Excuse me," to him, and went up to her bedroom.

L

The ride to town to the church was a mostly silent one, for Charlie and Scott. Charlie was still feeling

nervous about she and Scott's interaction earlier, and embarrassed about Mr. Beets. And, underneath the nerves and

embarrassment, Charlie felt a bit of mutiny still remaining.

Before the service began, while standing beside Mr. Beets and Murdoch, Charlie saw Mrs. Stone approaching

Scott, and taking him off to a corner to talk. Gahhh.

Lucy, meanwhile, avoided Charlie like a plague.

Once the service began, and the minister was droning on and on, Charlie kept taking covert glances up at

Scott, sitting beside her. She was trying to discern if he was irritated about what Mrs. Stone had told him. She

couldn't really tell anything from Scott's profile, though. And, once, when the congregation stood to sing, Scott helped

her flip the pages to the correct hymn. He gave her a small smile and then began singing from his own hymnal. Charlie

thought it wasn't much of a smile, but it was better than nothing.

L

Once they'd begun the ride home, Charlie was hoping that Scott would swing by the jail to see Val, and check on Burl.

But, he didn't, and Charlie knew better than to ask him. Besides, she figured that he would be bringing up what Mrs. Stone

had said, at any moment now. So, she stayed quiet.

"How are the pups doing?" he asked.

Surprised, Charlie said, "They seem fine. Happy. I think they're getting bigger."

"They're going to be real big dogs, when they're grown," he said.

"It's not likely Burl will be able to take them back again. Even if he gets a place to live, the three big ones would be

more than enough for him to handle," Scott went on.

"Are we going to keep the pups?" Charlie asked, hardly daring to hope. Scott had said, early on, that he would think about

whether she could have one of the puppies, but, now there were two, and with what had happened that morning-well,

she wasn't sure.

"I was thinking that you could keep the one you like so much," he said. "Maybe we ought to find the other one

a home, though. I think one big dog around Lancer will be enough."

Charlie was so happy then, that she felt sorry she'd acted up that morning. Her own dog! Once she'd brought a dog to Katherine's house

in Stockton. A medium sized dog that was starving and living on the streets. But Katherine had said it was ridden up with fleas, and

she'd had one of the maids take it to the country while Charlie had been gone to school.

Remembering that made her sad, and then she came back to the present. The present with Scott, and her own puppy, and

everything else that was good. Scott might, she thought, be strict and all, but he was good to her. He was kind. And he was fair.

He'd warned her before about muttering under her breath after being told something by him or another adult, and she'd gone on and

done it this morning, anyway.

He would have, Charlie admitted to herself, been within the realm of reason to give her a good spanking for it. But, he

hadn't. He'd given her a chance to step back into line.

She tightened her hold around his waist without realizing that she was doing so. And, then she rested her forehead against

the center of his back, feeling weepy and emotional.

Charlie thought she was doing a good job of hiding her emotions. Or at least a passable job of it. She was willing back the

tears that were threatening, when he said, quietly, "What's wrong?"

"I'm happy about the puppy," she managed.

"Oh," he said, and patted one of her hands with his own. "Well, you can train him, and have a lot of fun with him for

a lot of years."

"Yes," Charlie said, quietly.

Charlie wanted to tell him that she was sorry about how she'd behaved earlier that morning. But, she thought she should

just be still.

"Mrs. Stone wanted to speak to me, about what happened between you and Lucy," he said.

Instead of saying that yes, she'd noticed, or asking what Lucy's mother had said, exactly, Charlie stayed quiet.

"I'm not saying that you have to be great friends with Lucy," Scott continued. "I know you think that she talks

too much."

Everything in Charlie wanted to reply _that Lucy did, indeed, talk too much._ She bit her lip to keep from saying it aloud.

"And, maybe she does talk too much," Scott said, surprising Charlie. "And say things that she shouldn't. But, we're all

guilty of that at times. Saying things that we shouldn't. For Lucy, it was repeating things she'd heard her mother say

about Burl. For you, something that you shouldn't have said, was to tell her to shut her mouth. And, adding that part about her mother,

that was wrong, too. Especially when you could have just walked away."

He paused, and looked over his left shoulder. "You understand that, now?"

Charlie nodded, and said, "Yes."

"I don't myself, think that Lucy is necessarily a bad person. I think she wants friends, and doesn't always go about it

the right way. And, she definitely shouldn't be repeating what she hears at home. But, some of the ways she behaves, is

because she hasn't been taught any better," Scott said.

Charlie kept still for a long few moments, and then, because she thought he wanted her to respond to what he'd said, she

said, "I guess so."

Scott faced forward again, and said, "I'd be real pleased if you'd apologize to Lucy. Not for being upset about what she

was saying. But for the way that you reacted, telling her to shut her mouth, and all."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead, knowing that he couldn't see her doing it. _He'd be real pleased if she apologized?_ What did

that mean, exactly? She puzzled over it in her head for a few minutes as they rode.

Finally, into the silence, Charlie asked, "Does that mean that I have to apologize to her?"

"No. It means what I said. That I'd be real pleased if you did," he said.

Still puzzled, Charlie said, "You're letting me decide?"

"That's right."

Murdoch and Beets came from behind, in the buggy, driving at a fast clip, and driving around Scott's horse

with both of them giving a jaunty wave. As always, Scott seemed amused at the antics of the two older men.

"Those two sure have a good time together," Scott observed.

After a few moments of quiet, as Lancer came into view, Charlie was thinking out how she wanted to ask the

next question. They rode up behind the buggy, and Scott put out an arm to lower Charlie to the ground, before he

dismounted himself.

"Will you be angry with me, if I don't apologize to her?" Charlie asked, in a rush.

Scott turned to survey Charlie, his hand on the saddle horn. "No, Charlie, I won't," he said.

He smiled briefly at Charlie before everyone began to merge together, and talk about going inside to eat lunch.

As she went inside to wash her hands to prepare to eat lunch, Charlie thought to herself that, just when she thought

she had Scott all figured out, he did something to surprise her.

L

After lunch, Charlie and Beets went for their customary walk. They took a different path this time, and Charlie showed

him where some of the new fences were being put in. Walking back, they stopped mid-way and sat to rest on a large rock.

They were drinking from the canteens of water that they'd brought along, and Charlie studied the older man, trying not

to be too obvious about it.

"I know you heard what Scott said this morning," Charlie said. "About what he'd do if I didn't behave-" she let her voice trail off.

Beets recapped his canteen, and said, "Yes, Charlotte, I heard."

"He didn't do it, though," Charlie felt compelled to point out. "I mean, he would have, but-I straightened up."

"I'm glad about that," Beets said, with a small smile.

"Scott's real strict," Charlie said, reaching for a flower and beginning to pluck the petals off.

"How do you feel about that? Him being so strict with you?"

Charlie considered. "Sometimes-it's sort of a lot. But, mostly, I don't mind so much. He's not mean about it."

"He cares for you very much," Beets said, quietly.

Charlie nodded. "I know. I care for him, too."

L

After Beets left, driving his rented buggy back to town to catch the stage, the house settled into Sunday afternoon. A slower

pace. Charlie took the two puppies up into the hay loft, to acquaint them with the kittens, so they would learn to get along. She

surprised herself by falling asleep in the hay, waking up a bit later, with both pups sleeping near her head.

Johnny played a game of checkers with her later, and Teresa began to sew on a dress from the material that Burl had

given her. It was a peaceful sort of afternoon, and Charlie felt her tangles inside begin to relax.

L

 **For all my reviewers and people who are enjoying the story, thanks a bunch!**

 **To the others, (who I see are all guest reviewers, by the way, lol) who compared the length of this story to**

 **"War and Peace", that particular body of work has 587,287 words in it. Before this chapter, this story contained**

 **176,067 words. Yikes, that means I need 411,220 more words to equal War and Peace. I mean, I don't want to make**

 **a liar out of you-just a little sarcastic humor here. In truth, though, I AM trying to wrap the story up to a finish.**


	76. The barefoot Lettie

With no school in session, Charlie was kept busy enough around the hacienda. She did extra chores to help Maria, and played with

the two pups, and spent time swinging as high as possible on the outdoor swing.

Scott assigned her handwriting to do and she finished that after lunch, after which she drew in her sketchbook for a bit.

She was sitting at the piano, struggling thru a piece of unfamiliar sheet music, when she heard boot steps, and

turned on the spinning piano stool.

"Don't stop, darling," Murdoch said, going to sit in a chair to the right of the piano. "Please continue playing."

"I'm not so very good on this piece," Charlie said. "Maybe I can play something else for you. Something I know a lot better."

"Whatever you like," Murdoch said, smiling at her.

So, Charlie launched into a piece that she knew from memory. A jaunty tune that had Murdoch's toe tapping.

When she finished, Murdoch said, "Spectacular," and Charlie gave him a dimpled smile.

"Come and sit with me," Murdoch told her.

Charlie went to sit beside him in the large chair.

"Tell me what you've been doing today to occupy yourself," he said.

Charlie rattled off her activities, and then sprang up. "I'll get my sketchbook," she told him. When she came back

from the hall table, carrying her sketchbook, she took her seat beside him, again.

"You've been drawing?" Murdoch asked, and Charlie nodded.

Murdoch turned the pages of the sketches, to the last two. "Are these what you did today?" he asked.

After that, they discussed the drawings for a few minutes, and Charlie handed him one of the drawing pencils.

"Will you draw something for me?" she asked.

"What would you like me to draw?"

"Whatever you want," Charlie said.

"Well, let me see," Murdoch said, looking contemplative. He began to draw, then, shading here and there, and Charlie watched

in awe as a picture came from those pencil strokes.

"It's Teresa," Charlie said, looking at the picture of a girl, with long hair that was blowing to one side, and a hand raised

as if to shade her eyes from the sun.

"Yes. It is."

"You're so talented," Charlie said.

"Thank you, darling. I think you're a fine artist, as well."

When Scott tucked Charlie into bed that night, he admired the pictures that she'd drawn that day, and read to her

a bit longer from their most recent book.

Charlie was tucked up into bed, when she asked about the next day.

"Tomorrow's Tuesday," she reminded him, quietly. She didn't want to seem as though she was wheedling.

"Is it?" Scott asked, looking amused. "Let's see, yesterday was Sunday-today was Monday-well, what do you know? You're correct."

Charlie smiled at his joshing.

"You said that on Tuesday that I might be able to visit Burl," Charlie said.

"I did say that," he said. "And, you've done well, the last couple of days, doing other things to stay busy. Murdoch really

enjoyed hearing you play the piano, I know." He looked down at Charlie's expectant face. "You can visit him tomorrow," he said, giving

permission. "When were you thinking about going? Morning or afternoon?"

"The morning," Charlie said, eagerly.

"Alright. We'll see if anybody else needs to go to town for anything in the morning, to go along with you."

"What if nobody does need to go?" Charlie asked, worried that Scott might withdraw his permission.

"Then, you'd likely be able to ride in by yourself, as long as you just went to the jail, and not go out scouting around

for Burl, if he's not there."

"I promise I wouldn't," Charlie said, sincerely.

 **Lancer**

At breakfast the next morning, discussing Charlie's trip into town to visit Burl, Johnny said he would accompany her.

"I've got some other things to do in town," he said. "A couple of things I need at the store. I can ride along with

the kid."

That suited Charlie. She liked having Johnny all to herself.

"Alright, pequeno?" he asked, looking to Charlie.

"Yes!" Charlie said, smiling at him.

Johnny finished up the couple of things that he needed to do before leaving, and Charlie got both horses saddled

in the meantime.

Riding into town, side by side, at a leisurely pace, Charlie cast a look to her right at Johnny.

"Can I ask you something, Johnny?"

"You can ask me anything, kid. I don't guarantee that I'll answer, though," he said, and gave her a grin.

"You know how Burl is, sometimes, right?"

"What particular trait of the old scutter are ya talkin' about?" he asked.

"Sometimes it's almost like he _knows_ things about a person. Something that he wasn't told beforehand." Charlie watched

Johnny, and saw by the expression on his face that he knew _exactly_ what she was talking about. Charlie remembered the day

that Burl had spoken so strangely to Johnny at the shack, about how Johnny hadn't been meant to open a door, when he'd been

a child. How he shouldn't feel guilty, because there was nothing that he could have done. Naught. That was the word that Burl had used.

"I know what ya mean," Johnny said, though he said no more after that.

"He did it to me, just like he did to you," Charlie said. "He said that I would be able to help people, when I'm older, and it

was like he knew about the gold mine money I'll inherit."

Johnny was still silent, and Charlie said, "It makes me feel-sort of strange inside. Not scared, exactly. Just-strange."

"Does the same for me," Johnny said, in agreement.

"It does?"

At his nod, Charlie asked, tentatively, "I think he meant the money, by what he said to me. What do you think he

meant by what he said to you?"

Johnny gave her a swift look, and then looked as though he was considering. Charlie could tell he wasn't certain about

answering her. At least with the truth.

"It seems as though he was talkin' about somethin' that happened when I was a kid," Johnny said. He leaned back

in the saddle a bit. "My mother had taken up with this hombre-with this one man," he amended. "He was a mean

one. Drunk _or_ sober, he was mean. He used to hit her a lot." Johnny sighed. "I wasn't much older than you are at the time. Sometimes,

he'd take her in another room, and lock the door, and I could hear him slappin' her around."

Charlie, listening, found it hard to swallow. Hearing Johnny tell the story, she could tell it still caused him hurt.

"I'm sorry, Johnny," she said. She didn't know what else to say.

Johnny looked at her again. He gave a slight smile. A sad smile.

"I've always wished I'd been older, bigger," he said. "Then I might have been able to do somethin' to help her."

"There was _naught_ that you could do," Charlie said, softly. "That's what Burl said."

"Yeah. That's what he said."

"Do you think-that he really can _know_ things, Johnny?"

Johnny sighed again. "I don't know, pequeno," he said. "To be honest, nothin' about that old man surprises me anymore."

 **Lancer**

At the front of the jail, they dismounted, and tied the horses to the railing in the front.

"I've got a couple of things to do, but I'll go in and say hello first," Johnny said.

Charlie nodded, glad that he was coming in with her first. Inside, just ahead of Johnny a bit, Charlie saw

Val sitting at his desk.

Charlie smiled at him, genuinely glad to see him. She'd gotten very fond of the Val over the past months.

"Hey there," Val said, standing, and walking towards them. He seemed almost to be 'herding' the two of them back.

"Let's step out here," Val said, gesturing to the door that Johnny hadn't had the opportunity to close as yet.

There were voices from the back of the jail, at the cells, and Charlie wanted to pause and listen, but Val

had hustled them out onto the sidewalk, and pulled the door closed behind.

Val preempted Charlie's question, by looking down at her, and saying, "He's alright, Charlie. The doctor's with him right

now."

"Did he get upset again?" Charlie asked, looking up at Val with her forehead crinkled in worry.

"Yeah. He did. Not even certain what he was upset about this time."

"Oh," Charlie said, quietly.

"I thought we'd give Doc a few minutes longer with him, and then maybe you can visit with him," Val told her.

"Okay," Charlie said, tremulously. She couldn't help but feel that Val was trying his best to not tell her more than

he had to.

"Let's go on to the store, and then we'll come back after awhile, alright, pequeno?" Johnny said.

Charlie nodded, and walked with Johnny down the sidewalk towards the mercantile.

Inside the store, she didn't wander around as she usually did, but stayed close to Johnny, as he purchased a pair

of leather gloves, and a sack of peanuts. When he'd paid, he stuffed the gloves into his pocket, and said,

"I told Murdoch I'd check the mail while we're in town."

"Okay," Charlie said, and followed him, yet again, across the street to the post office.

After Johnny had collected the mail, he stood on the sidewalk, sifting thru it.

"Nothin' much," he said, and then looked down at Charlie.

"How about somethin' cold to drink?" he offered.

Charlie nodded, and they went into the café, finding an empty table. When the waitress approached them, Johnny

looked at Charlie in question. "Lemonade?" he asked. "Or root beer?"

"Root beer," Charlie said, and then added, belatedly, "Please."

"Two root beers," Johnny told the waitress.

When she'd walked away, Johnny looked at Charlie, and when she met his eyes, he said, quietly, "What's wrong, pequeno?"

"I just wish-that Burl wasn't like he is. I mean, I _like_ him a lot. But, he just gets so strange. And, I don't know how to help him."

"You've helped him," Johnny said, sounding definite. "Probably more than anybody has in a long, long time."

"Thanks, Johnny," Charlie said, taking it for the high praise that it was.

"It's the truth," he said.

"I don't understand-why he's alright at one time, and then he's not."

"I know," Johnny said, sounding regretful. "It's hard to take in. I don't understand it, either."

"I think he's really smart, though. Don't you, Johnny?"

"I have no doubt that he's smart."

Their root beers were brought and set before them, and Charlie took a long drink. The taste of it was still something

she wasn't accustomed to.

"Was your mother nice?" she asked Johnny, on an impulse.

Johnny nodded slightly. "She was. Was yours?"

"Yes," Charlie said. "She was sick a lot, but when she felt alright, she'd sing sometimes. That was nice."

"My mother used to sing sometimes, too," Johnny said, and gave Charlie a half-smile. For the moment, they were united

in the past. In separate memories, yes, but still united.

 **Lancer**

When they'd finished their drinks and walked back to the jail, Johnny cautioned Charlie at the door.

"If ya can't talk with Burl today, then that's the way it is, pequeno. I mean, if he's still upset and all. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, and met his eyes, resolving to herself that she wouldn't disappoint him by behaving badly.

Val was, again, sitting at his desk when they went in. The doctor was sitting on a chair just to the side.

The men exchanged greetings with Johnny, and then the doctor smiled at Charlie.

"I'll go now," he said, and stood up, picking up his black supply bag. "I'll be back later to check on him again."

He paused beside Charlie. "He may seem quite strange today. He seems lost in the past. He's agitated."

"Maybe she ought not to visit with him, you think?" Johnny asked.

"I see no harm in it, as long it doesn't bother Charlie," the doctor said.

"It won't bother me," Charlie said.

The doctor nodded, and went out.

Charlie looked at Johnny. "Can I go back now?"

Johnny looked at Val, and then he said, "Alright. I'll go back with ya."

"He won't hurt me, Johnny," she said, in mild protest. "You don't need to worry."

Johnny didn't respond to that statement. He just motioned with his hand towards the cells, and followed along behind

Charlie.

Burl was sitting on a straight-backed chair, pulled right up to the front one of the trunks. He was sifting thru the items.

Charlie went into the opened cell door, and stood beside the chair. "Hullo, Burl," she greeted him.

Burl raised his eyes to take her in. He looked, to Charlie, as though he hadn't slept, and his forehead was wrinkled in

puzzlement. He looked away, again, back to the contents of the trunk.

Charlie looked up at Johnny, and Johnny gave a regretful shake of his dark head, both of them in sad agreement that

Burl was confused as to their identity.

Charlie went to sit on the edge of the cot, while Johnny leaned in the doorway of the cell. There was silence there, for a

few minutes, and then Burl spoke. "Come here, and see this."

Charlie hesitated, not sure if he meant her or Johnny. When Johnny gave her a nod, Charlie stood up, and took the

few steps to stand beside the chair. Burl reached out a shaky hand and pulled at Charlie's hand.

"Sit here with me," he said.

Charlie sank down to the floor beside the chair where Burl was sitting.

Burl held a small album, with what looked like brown leaves on the top of it. He opened it slowly, almost carefully,

and then began pointing out things in some of the photographs enclosed.

"This was Lettie and me," he said, pointing to one of a small boy and girl. The boy held what passed for a fishing pole, and

the little girl was laughing, and, peeking out from the hem of her skirt, her feet were barefoot.

"She never did want anyone to see her without her shoes on," Burl said, sounding as though he was far away. "Her governess

took this picture of us, and then right afterward, scolded Lettie good for showing her bare feet that way."

"Was it wrong to be barefooted in front of folks then?" Charlie asked, and Burl smiled.

"Oh my, yes, it was. It wasn't ladylike, ya know. Lettie hated wearin' her shoes, though, when it was warm out. She said

the grass just fairly called to her to walk barefooted in it." Burl paused, looking from the photograph to Charlie's face. "You look

like her, ya know."

"Do I?" Charlie asked, looking at the photograph closer to see if she agreed to resembling the mysterious Lettie.

"Ah. When she was younger, like in this photograph," Burl affirmed.

"Johnny, look," Charlie said, turning the album so that he could see. Johnny stepped closer.

"What do ya think, young fella? They do look alike, don't they?" Burl asked him.

"They do," Johnny said. "A bit."

"You remind me of her, in other ways, too," Burl went on.

"I do?" Charlie asked, curious.

"The way you're always tearin' about, intent on a new adventure," Burl said. "Lettie was that way."

Charlie was just about to ask just _who_ Lettie had been to Burl, when he began to point to other pictures. There was Lettie,

sitting on some sort of tall wall made of stones, again shoeless; and another of her standing tall, and regal looking, dressed in a

ball gown and wearing what looked like a tiara in her hair. In the last photo, though, Lettie was not laughing. Charlie realized that

in every other picture she'd seen of Lettie, whether very young, or as a teenager, she had her head tossed back in laughter.

In this one, though, she looked not only serious, but almost sad, Charlie thought.

"I'm weary now," Burl said, with a suddenness that caught Charlie off guard. He put the album into her hands, and stood up,

going to the cot and lying down. He turned his back to them, and went suddenly still, as if asleep nearly immediately.

 **Lancer**


	77. Into the darkness

Charlie was quiet on the way home. Johnny kept his eye on her, observing, and then once, asking, "You alright, pequeno?"

"Yes," Charlie said, with a small sigh.

"I know it probably don't seem like it, but Burl really is better off there at the jail, with Val, than he would be all on his own," Johnny said.

Charlie nodded in response, but was quiet.

Once at home, Charlie unsaddled Gurth, and rubbed him down, and put away her own tack. It was while she was

placing her saddle in the barn, while Johnny was doing the same, that Scott came to the door of the barn.

"You're home earlier than what I expected that you'd be," Scott said.

"Burl decided to nap," Johnny said, in explanation, pausing at the door beside Scott. He gave a brief nod towards

Charlie, who was still working on setting her saddle just right, and he and Scott exchanged a look that spoke without words.

Scott nodded in return, taking in Charlie's subdued demeanor, and understanding that it had something to do

with the visit to see Burl.

When Johnny had gone, Scott stood, surveying Charlie for a few moments in consideration, before walking over close to

where she stood, rubbing at her saddle with a cloth.

Scott took a seat on one of the tall stools that Jelly sat at when he was sharpening things on the whetstone.

Charlie kept rubbing at her saddle, though there was nothing that needed rubbing off or cleaning. Scott waited her

out, sitting, and saying nothing.

Finally, Charlie hung up the rag, and turned to look at him. He gave her a half-smile of quiet understanding,

and Charlie came over to stand to his side.

"Feeling all mixed-up inside, hmmm?" Scott asked her, and Charlie raised her eyes to his.

She nodded, and then came around to stand in front of him, leaning herself in and laying her head on his

chest.

Scott wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in closer.

"He's not ever going to be any better, is he, Scott?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know, kiddo. I wish that I did," Scott said, with regret.

"He's getting worse, you know," she said, rubbing her cheek against his shirt for comfort.

"He might be. Or, he might not be. It's possible he's just not able to conceal things as well as he did before," Scott said.

Charlie considered that. "Oh."

Scott rubbed circles on her back until he could tell that she was feeling somewhat calmer.

"I need to get back to work," he said. "And Maria has your lunch waiting for you in the kitchen."

Charlie sighed, and lifted her head from his chest. "Okay."

As Scott stood up, Charlie asked, "Where are you going to be working at?"

"Off in the upper pastures."

"Doing fence work?" Charlie asked, then.

"Uh huh."

"Can I go with you?" Charlie asked him. At what she thought was the beginning of him shaking his head to refuse, Charlie

went on. "May I? Please, Scott? I'll go and get my sandwich and eat really quickly."

"You've just unsaddled your horse," he reminded her, smiling a bit.

"I could ride double with you," Charlie said.

"You think you could, hmm?" Scott asked, running his hand over her hair.

"Yes," Charlie said, earnestly.

"It's going to get real hot later," Scott began.

"I won't complain," Charlie promised.

"I know you won't," he said, and then added, "Well, go and eat your lunch, and grab your hat, and then

come back out."

 **Lancer**

Charlie rode double with Scott, also accompanied by Murdoch, and two of the hands to the fences that needed checking, and packing. She fetched

and carried when she was asked, and kept her eyes on the portions of the fence that Scott told her to watch. By the time

the afternoon had worn down nearly to a close, they were preparing to head back.

Murdoch had said something that Charlie only heard the last bit of. Something about a supper in town, and how

Scott should take care not to be late for it.

Once again riding behind him, Charlie asked about what she'd overheard.

"Do you have a supper to go to, in town?"

"I do. You remember a while back, when I went with Val and the two ladies to supper? Well, it's that same young lady."

"Oh," Charlie said, not understanding why she felt suddenly adrift.

"I shouldn't be late. I'll be home in time to read with you, I expect," Scott was saying. "And, if I'm not, by your bedtime, then

Murdoch will read with you."

When Charlie was silent, Scott patted one of her hands that rested on his waist. "Alright?" he asked.

"Yes." A sudden, worrisome thought occurred to her. "Is Mr. Val going to supper, too? With his lady friend?"

"Yes. We're all going together."

"Who will be with Burl?" Charlie asked. "If Mr. Val is out?"

"I imagine he'll have the deputy there, at the office," Scott said.

 **Lancer**

When Scott had gone later, to town for his evening out, the rest of the family ate their supper of roast beef, and

potato pancakes, and carrot coins. Charlie ate her fill, which was quite a lot, finishing off her meal with a glass of milk

and a piece of rhubarb pie.

Johnny was eating pie, too, and debating about going out that night, himself.

"Where to?" Teresa asked, sounding as though she were scolding him.

"None of your business, hermana," Johnny answered.

Johnny ended up staying at home, though, and he and Teresa played a game of checkers, while Charlie sat with

Murdoch, as they sketched together.

When Charlie went upstairs to bed, she'd stayed up later, so she told Murdoch that he didn't need to read with her.

That she would wait to continue reading the latest book with Scott.

Charlie curled up under her quilts, feeling cozy. She hoped that Scott was having a good time.

 **Lancer**

It was some time later, not long, after Charlie had fallen asleep, that she was awakened by a noise. She lay there, in the

darkened room, listening. She wasn't sure just what it was that she had heard. For a long few moments she only heard quiet.

Then, she heard it again. A sound of someone singing, it seemed, though she could not make out the exact words. It sounded as though

it was right below her window, too. The singing would start, then stop, then start up again.

Charlie scrambled out of bed, and went to kneel on the window seat, looking out of the window. It was hard to see anything, though

by the moonlight she caught the sight of a slight figure, before it was gone, off into the fields beyond the barn.

Charlie recognized that voice. That lyrical voice.

She went to the door of her bedroom, and was intent on making it down the stairs in a flash. A soft voice gave her

pause.

"Charlie," Teresa said, in a loud whisper, and Charlie stopped to look back, at Teresa standing in the doorway of her

bedroom, pulling on a robe over her nightgown.

"I think it's Burl!" Charlie said, in a equally loud whisper. "Did you hear?"

"Yes. I heard," Teresa said. "Go and wake Johnny."

"It's only Burl-" Charlie began to protest, though still in a raised whisper.

"You don't know that for certain. Go and wake Johnny," Teresa insisted.

Charlie sighed impatiently, and went to Johnny's bedroom door. Instead of knocking, which was sure to rouse Murdoch,

and would take longer, anyway, Charlie opened the door a smidge. She peered into the room, and then left the door

ajar so that the hallway light would shine in.

She crossed to the bed, and touched Johnny's shoulder. Thinking she might have to do it again, harder, she stretched her

hand out, but it was not necessary. At the first touch of her fingers to his shoulder, Johnny was sitting up, his hand going

automatically to the gun in the gun belt on his nightstand.

"What-Charlie?" he asked. "What is it?"

"There's somebody outside. I'm fairly sure it's Burl-" Charlie said, keeping her voice quiet.

Johnny stood up, dressed only in pants, his feet and his chest bare. Taking his pistol from the gun belt, he headed to the

hallway, and down the stairs, Charlie following.

Teresa was already downstairs, standing near the front door, and looking out the window from a lifted curtain.

"See anything?" Johnny asked her.

"No. Not now," Teresa said.

Johnny went to the door, opening it, and standing there, as if listening.

"You girls stay here," he ordered, quietly. And, then, he was gone, into the darkness.

L


	78. Brought in

Waiting there in the doorway, with Teresa, Charlie couldn't help but feel anxious.

"He walked all the way here from town-" Charlie was saying.

"We don't know that it's him," Teresa reminded.

"I recognize his voice. The way he was singing that tune," Charlie insisted.

"Well, if it is him, Johnny will find that out," Teresa said.

Neither one of the girls heard Murdoch's stealthy approach from behind. His big bulk was there, next to them, and

he said, "What is it, girls?"

"We heard someone," Teresa spoke up, turning to look up at Murdoch. "Johnny went to see."

"It's Burl, Murdoch," Charlie said, slipping her hand into his.

"She keeps insisting that-but it's not certain," Teresa said.

"It is!" Charlie said.

"I'll make some coffee," Teresa said, and left them, going towards the kitchen.

Charlie squeezed Murdoch's hand. She couldn't help the worrisome feelings she was having.

Murdoch squeezed her hand in return. "Everything will be fine," he said.

There was the sound, seeming far off, of hollering, though the words could not be made out.

Murdoch dropped her hand, and went back inside, going to take a rifle from the gun rack.

Charlie watched him do that, and then he came to pause beside her. "Stay here with Teresa," he said.

Charlie wondered that he was taking his rifle, but didn't ask what she wanted to. For the first time she realized that

Murdoch was fully dressed, down to the boots on his feet. She thought of Johnny, out there in his bare feet and no shirt. She

was cool, just standing here as she was. Johnny must be very chilled, by now.

Thinking of that, she was startled back to the 'now', when Murdoch said, "Charlie? Do you hear?"

Charlie nodded in answer. And then, Murdoch was gone, just as Johnny had.

She stood there and listened, but could hear nothing by the way of human shouts. She went inside, closing the door, and up the stairs to

Johnny's bedroom swiftly. She rummaged in his bureau drawers, finding a shirt, and then a pair of woolen socks, and

his boots, which looked as though they'd been dropped carelessly by the bed. Scooping all of that up in her arms, she

ran back down the stairs again.

Teresa was just coming from the kitchen. "What's all that?" she asked.

"Johnny's socks and boots. And a shirt-" Charlie began. "His feet _have_ to be getting cold by now-"

"They probably are," Teresa said, sounding regretful. "But, it's not as though you can take them to him now. We'll just have to

wait. He can soak them in some hot water later. Where's Murdoch?"

"He went out there, too," Charlie said. She squeezed Johnny's boots tighter to her chest.

Teresa went to lift the window curtain again, peering out.

"I wish Scott was home," Charlie said, wistfully.

Teresa dropped the curtain, turning to face Charlie. "I know," she said.

"I think it's-well, it's just _wrong_ that we have to just wait here like this!" Charlie said. "Just because we're

girls," Charlie said, in agitation.

"I know," Teresa said, again. "But, that's the way that it is."

"Well-it's wrong, and it's stupid!" Charlie said.

"Put all that down, and we'll have some hot chocolate while we wait," Teresa suggested. And, she suggested it in that tone,

(or so it seemed to Charlie), that she was trying to pacify, to soothe, to 'settle ruffled feathers'.

"I don't want any stupid hot chocolate," Charlie said, barely restraining herself from stamping her foot. "I want to _do_ something!"

Charlie exchanged a long look with Teresa, that had the beginnings of a stand-off. She flung Johnny's belongings onto a chair

near the window, and went to pull open the front door again.

Teresa was there, at her side, with a swiftness that surprised Charlie.

"You can think about going out, following Johnny and Murdoch. You can _think_ about it all that you want to. But, you'd better

not follow thru on that and actually _do_ it. Do you understand me, Charlie?" Teresa said, in as furious a tone as Charlie had

ever heard from her, and clutching a full handful of Charlie's nightgown, as if to restrain her.

"How are you going to keep me from it?" Charlie challenged, though she had no real plans to run out into the night. Not really. "Are you

going to sit on me, or something?"

"If I have to, I will," Teresa said, her eyes snapping. "And, that's because we don't know what's really happening, or if

Burl is _himself_ or if he's a danger to himself or someone else. He might have a gun of his own with him. Did you think of that?"

Charlie hadn't thought of that, specifically. At Teresa's words, she felt all that righteous emotion leave her in a whoosh. Leaving

only, instead, the high anxiousness, and worry.

"He mightn't intend to hurt you, but there's always a chance," Teresa went on, relentless in her scolding. "Not to mention that

you'd earn yourself a good walloping from all three of the men in this house-and I wouldn't try to help you when it was time

for them to hand it out, either!"

"Alright," Charlie conceded in defeat. "I'm not going to do anything, Teresa."

Still holding onto the grip of Charlie's nightgown, as if she didn't quite believe her, Teresa was giving Charlie a

big-sisterly glare.

"I'm not, Teresa. I promise," Charlie said.

"Alright," Teresa said, and released her hold.

Charlie sighed and the two girls exchanged a long look.

"Let's sit out here on the bench together," Teresa said, and that's what they did. Charlie wasn't certain how much time

had passed, when they heard the sound of an approaching horse and rider.

It was Scott. He rode to the corral, and both girls stood up, going to the edge of the courtyard.

"Scott," Teresa called out, and immediately Scott came striding over to where they were standing.

"What are you two doing out here?" he demanded.

"Waiting for Johnny, and Murdoch. We heard someone outside, and they went to see about it," Teresa explained.

"What did you hear?" Scott asked.

"Singing," Teresa said.

"Singing?" Scott asked, sounding surprised, and as if he might have misheard her.

"Yes," Teresa said.

Charlie, who'd been still up until this moment, stepped closer and wove her fingers thru Scott's belt loops. "And hollering," she added. "And I _saw_ somebody,

too. Walking towards the fields."

"How long ago?" he asked crisply.

"Johnny's been gone-about an hour or so, probably," Teresa said. "Murdoch a bit after that. We haven't heard anything

for a long time."

"Alright. I'll go see what I can find out," Scott said, and turned to walk back to his horse, that he'd left by the corral. Charlie

ran after him, her feet hitting the cool ground.

"It's Burl, Scott," she said, and he turned to look down at her, his expression visible only in the moonlight. "He came all the way

out here from town-the deputy wasn't watching him, or something! He must want to talk to us very much!"

"Well, if it is him, we'll find him," Scott said, sounding calm.

"Johnny doesn't have socks or boots on," Charlie said. "I brought them down-they're on the chair just inside. Do you want them?"

"Yes. Quickly go and get them," he answered.

Charlie ran as fast as she was able, rushing past Teresa and inside, gathering up the socks and boots, and the shirt, as well.

She went back to where Scott was, mounted on his horse. He took the things from her, and then wrapped the shirt around the

socks and boots and tied it at the top so that it would be easier to hold as he rode.

After that, the two girls sat some more. Teresa went off to the kitchen, returning to the outside bench carrying

two cups of hot chocolate. Handing one off to Charlie, they sat in the night quiet.

Finally, they heard the sounds of approaching male voices. And then Scott rode in, going to the corral, someone on the

saddle behind him. On foot, Murdoch and Johnny weren't far behind.

"Scott has Burl with him," Charlie determined, even though she could not see a clear view of _exactness._

She would have run across the courtyard to greet Scott and Burl, too, if Teresa hadn't been standing beside her,

with a deterring hand on Charlie's arm.

"Wait," Teresa said.

She sounded odd to Charlie, and, looking up at the older girl, Charlie saw something on Teresa's face. A look of

wariness, nearly.

"What?" Charlie asked, but by that time Murdoch and Johnny had reached Scott, and he basically lowered Burl

to the ground, into Murdoch's arms. Stood up between Johnny and Murdoch, and made to walk, Burl seemed to have

difficulty in doing so.

He was more trudging than walking, and with considerable assistance from Murdoch and Johnny.

"What's wrong with him?" Charlie wondered aloud.

"Likely he's tuckered out," Teresa said, though she didn't sound positive.

"Maybe he's drunk," Charlie said.

"Charlie-"

"Well. He _could_ be," Charlie insisted.

"I've made coffee," Teresa offered, as the three men reached the front door.

"Good," Murdoch said.

Johnny was, Charlie saw, wearing the boots and shirt that she'd gathered up for him.

"We'll take him to the library," Murdoch said. "Try and get some coffee and food into him. Teresa, can you see about

some sandwiches?"

"Yes. Of course," Teresa said, and whirled away.

Burl had his head down, as if studying his feet, and he was mumbling something not easily understandable to

Charlie.

"Is he alright?" Charlie asked.

"He's cold, but he's alright," Murdoch said.

Charlie studied Burl's clothing as she followed the trio to the library. He was in, she thought, the same clothes as he'd been

wearing earlier. Nothing unusual about that, of course, but they were now even more tattered, and covered in stick tights. He was

dirty, and smelly. And, he was wearing no shoes.

Once in the library, Murdoch and Johnny lowered Burl into the large chair by the fireplace. Burl sank back into the leather of

the chair, still mumbling to himself.

"Get that footrest, will ya, pequeno?" Johnny said, and Charlie scurried to obey.

Once she pushed it over to them, Johnny lifted Burl's feet to put them on the footstool.

"Once he warms up a bit, we'll get that jacket off of him," Murdoch was saying.

Charlie studied Burl. Odd though the man could be, and she had seen him in many moods and varying personas, he

seemed even more different right now. She leaned from her waist to peer at him.

Her greeting of 'hello, Burl' went unanswered, and unacknowledged. Burl continued to mumble, working his

knotty hands together, as a person would do if trying to warm themselves.

Scott had come in now, going to pour a snifter of whiskey, and bringing it to hand it to Murdoch, who raised it to Burl's lips,

and the old man seemed satisfied, sipping at it.

"Pour me one of those, will ya, Scott," Johnny said. "I'll go put some water on to heat for his feet," he said, and

disappeared.

"Charlie, go and gather a towel or two," Murdoch said, taking the second glass Scott offered him, and swigging it down.

Charlie went swiftly upstairs, to the linen closet, and took down two towels, returning to the library in record speed.

"Lay them in front of the fire, there," Murdoch instructed. As Charlie was doing that, Teresa came in, with a platter

of sandwiches. Ham, and roast beef with cheese, on thick slices of Maria's homemade bread. And coffee, with several cups.

"Thank you, darling," Murdoch told her, as Charlie bent again to address herself to Burl.

"Burl, hello-"

"He's not likely to answer you," Murdoch told her, as he pulled a chair over closer to Burl's, and took the cup of

coffee that Teresa had poured.

"Let's have some of this coffee," Murdoch said, guiding the cup up to Burl's mouth.

After a sip or two, Burl pushed the cup away with enough force to spill half of the contents. "They was tryin' to

poison me," he said, raising his head to look into Murdoch's.

"Nobody here is trying to poison you," Murdoch told him.

"Who you be?" the old man asked, looking confused.

"Murdoch Lancer," Murdoch said.

"I know no one by that name," Burl said.

Charlie watched from a few feet away, feeling anxious and somewhat horrified, as Burl continued to maintain that

he did not know them, and gave the hot coffee that was brought to his lips another slap, spilling the remainder over

his own legs and Murdoch's shirt front.

"Here, now-" Murdoch began.

"Let me try, Murdoch," Johnny said. And, then, with an ease that surprised his father, and everyone else in that

room, Johnny took Murdoch's vacated seat on the foot stool, in front of the old man.

"Pour some more coffee in here, Teresa," Johnny said, holding out the nearly empty cup.

When Teresa had done so, Johnny lifted the cup of steaming coffee to Burl's mouth.

"Have some coffee," Johnny said.

"More whiskey. Not coffee," Burl mumbled.

"Coffee now. More whiskey later," Johnny said, in that same gentle tone.

Burl accepted Johnny holding the cup to his mouth, and drank some of the coffee. The towels, warm from being in front of the

fire, were brought and arranged over Burl's feet.

Johnny was cajoling Burl to take more coffee, when the old man raised his head for the first time since he'd come into the

room. Charlie, who'd been standing back a bit, beside Murdoch, saw Burl looking directly at her. The old man's wrinkled

face lit up in a smile, and it made Charlie feel glad just to see it.

He recognized her now. His 'memory lapse' had passed, Charlie thought.

Burl reached out a knotty hand to Charlie, and she stepped forward, beginning to take it.

"Where have you been?" he asked her, his expression changing from happy to sorrowful. "I was looking everywhere

for you!"

Startled, a bit, Charlie felt him squeeze her hand in a grip that was harder than what she'd given him credit for.

"I've been right here," she said in answer.

"I didn't know-" Burl began, and then began to pull at Charlie until she was sitting on the footstool beside Johnny.

"I thought you'd gone," Burl went on, and now he was smiling again. "But, you're here. I have things to talk with you

about."

Charlie nodded, and started to answer, but then she went silent, as did the rest of the room, when Burl touched

Charlie's cheek with one knotted finger. "My sweet Lettie," he crooned softly. "Don't go far away from me."

 _Lettie. The mysterious Lettie._ Charlie looked to her right at Johnny, and then upwards towards Scott, and Murdoch.

 **Lancer**


	79. Update on continuing story

**To those that are following this story, I will be continuing it. Do not give up on it. I will attempt to update it within the**

 **next week.**

 **thanks**

 **McLance**


	80. Overnight guest

Not certain what to do, or how to respond, Charlie looked to the adults around her for guidance.

"Here, now," Murdoch said, reaching down to gently pry Burl's fingers from Charlie's arm. "You'll see her after a bit."

Burl latched onto Charlie with a fierceness, and a strength that surprised them all, and that startled Charlie.

Charlie caught her breath at the action, as Burl looked up at Murdoch and said, "No! You'll take her and I'll not see

her again!"

A quick look between Murdoch, Johnny and Scott, and Murdoch then said, more firmly, "No, Burl, you'll see her

soon," as Scott very deftly loosened Burl's fingers, and released Charlie.

When Charlie was standing, free of Burl's grip, Murdoch began to talk to Burl quietly. Scott took Charlie out of the room

into the hall.

"Are you alright?" Scott asked her.

Charlie nodded, but Scott felt her tremble. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Bit frightening, hmm?" he asked her.

"Not frightening, exactly," Charlie said. "It was-" she hesitated.

"Startling?" Scott supplied, and Charlie nodded.

"Yes."

"Why don't you go on out to the kitchen and get yourself a snack before bed," Scott suggested.

"I'm not hungry-Teresa and I were eating while we were waiting-"

"Alright. Get a glass of milk then, and go on upstairs. I'll be up soon," Scott said.

Charlie nodded, looking back at the room, where they could hear Murdoch's voice, still talking to Burl.

"He really thinks I'm Lettie," Charlie said, sounding regretful and confused.

"For the moment, he does," Scott said.

After another look at Scott, and at the room, Charlie headed off to the kitchen.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, Charlie put on her nightgown, and sat at the window seat. Teresa came after a bit,

tapping on the door, and coming in. The two girls sat at the window seat, and Charlie felt better just having Teresa there.

"Why does he think I'm Lettie?" Charlie asked.

"He's just confused, Charlie."

"Where is he going to sleep?"

"Murdoch is giving him his room," Teresa said.

"Do you have to go back downstairs?"

"I'll stay with you, until Scott comes up," Teresa said, and sat, with her arms around Charlie.

Lancer

When Scott did come, Teresa didn't stand immediately. She kept her arm around Charlie, and said,

"How is he?" to Scott.

"He's in bed. Nearly asleep, I think. Murdoch's going to sit with him awhile," Scott said.

"Well, that's good," Teresa said. She patted Charlie and stood up. "Goodnight, Charlie." She paused beside

Scott, and reached up to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight, Scott."

"Goodnight, Teresa," Scott said. He came over to stand beside the bed. "Come on. Time to get into bed."

Charlie went to scramble up onto the bed, and snuggled down under her quilts.

Scott sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking the blankets up around her.

"How long will Burl stay here?" she asked.

"I'm not certain."

"Do you think he'll still believe that I'm Lettie tomorrow?"

"I don't know, kiddo. Hopefully, he won't."

"Oh," Charlie said, sounding small.

"I don't want you to worry about it," Scott said, smoothing back her hair from her face. "If he does, we'll make

certain that he doesn't cause you any harm."

"I'm not worried about that," Charlie said. "Burl wouldn't ever hurt _Lettie._ So, if he thinks I'm Lettie, then he won't hurt

me."

 **Lancer**

By the time Charlie woke, washed and dressed the next morning, and went down to the breakfast table, Burl was

already seated, to the right of Murdoch, and next to Teresa.

All three Lancer men and Teresa greeted Charlie, wishing her a Good Morning.

Burl was silent, but he appeared to be eating well. There was a platter of eggs and sausages in the center of the

table, and biscuits in a basket.

"I must have overslept," Charlie said, taking her chair at the table.

"No. We've only just begun to eat," Teresa said.

"We thought you might want to sleep a little later this morning," Scott said.

Charlie shook her head, and Johnny reached out for the platter, handing it off to her.

Charlie ate her eggs and two of Maria's biscuits, smothered in apple jelly.

"That was a fine meal," Burl said.

"Would you care for more?" Murdoch asked him.

"No, no," Burl said, waving a hand. "I'm stuffed to the brim, I am."

As they finished up their meal, Burl ran a hand over his chin.

"Might I be able to have a shave?" he asked.

"Absolutely," Murdoch said. "We'll see to having a bath prepared for you, too."

So Murdoch went off with Burl, and Charlie helped Maria with the breakfast dishes.

"I wonder if Burl will really take a bath," Charlie wondered, as she wiped the plates dry.

"I hope so," Teresa said, fervently.

Charlie was outside a bit later, hanging around the corral with Johnny and Jelly, when Val came riding up.

"Mornin', Val," Johnny said in greeting.

"Morning, Johnny. Jelly," Val said. "Hullo there, Charlie."

"Hullo," Charlie said, following Johnny as he walked to meet Val, who was getting off of his horse.

"I'm missing a resident at the jail," Val said.

"He's here," Johnny said. "We collected him late last night. He was wanderin' around in the south

pasture."

"Wandering around, huh?" Val asked.

"Yes. And singing," Charlie volunteered.

Val gave her an raised eyebrow. "Was he?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm glad you found him-I've been worried about the old codger," Val said.

"He's having a bath now," Charlie continued with her information.

Val nodded, looking amused. "How about that?"

"Val doesn't wanna know Burl's every move, pequeno," Johnny said.

"Oh," Charlie said, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Murdoch came walking out from the house to greet Val.

"Val," he said.

"Morning, Murdoch. I hear you acquired a visitor last night," Val said.

"That we did." Murdoch turned to Jelly. "Those clothes of yours fit Burl fine. Thank you, Jelly."

Jelly waved a hand. "Wasn't as though I had much say in the matter-"

Murdoch gave the crotchety old ranch hand a nod. "Yes, Jelly, I'm aware. Would you go see about refilling the wood box?"

Jelly wandered away, muttering to himself.

"I'm just not sure what to do with the old fellow," Val mused. "Beyond locking him up in the cell every night-so we don't have

a repeat of his wandering, like we did last night."

"Right," Johnny said. "There's no guarantee he'll make it out our way again. He might end up a hundred miles from here."

"Could happen," Val said.

"Couldn't we use some of the money that Teresa got from selling his material?" Charlie spoke up. "And rent him a house

in town?"

"I don't think he can manage by himself any longer, J.C.," Val said, looking down at Charlie.

"I'm of the same belief," Murdoch said.

Charlie formed the question she wanted to ask, but, before she could ask it, Murdoch took Val off into the house

for coffee and cake.

"Come on along, son," Murdoch told Johnny. "You too, darling," he said to Charlie.

"Be there in a minute," Johnny said. He went to begin picking up the hoof-trimming tools he'd been using.

Charlie tagged after him, and began to help gather things up.

"Johnny?" she asked.

"Hmmm?"

"I think Burl could stay here, with us. Don't you?"

Johnny gave Charlie a quick look. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, pequeno," he said.

"You mean because it would be lots of work to tend to him, and all?"

"Well-that's part of it."

"We could all take turns helping him with things, and looking after him," Charlie said.

When Johnny was silent, only putting the tools away, Charlie said, "Isn't that right? We could all do that, couldn't we?"

"I think that's a suggestion that would need to be put to the whole family," Johnny said.

"Okay," Charlie said, determined to do just that.

 **Lancer**


	81. Burl's day at home

They had their coffee and cake, and Charlie hung around the group seated at the table in the dining room, listening

to their talk. She hoped to have her own chance at talking. Maybe not in front of Burl, but at some point to Murdoch, and Scott,

and Mr. Val.

Burl definitely looked different than he had earlier. He looked clean, and, his hair was slicked back. Jelly's clothes fit him

well, though the length of the pants were a bit long. He still seemed confused, though.

When Val got prepared to head back to town, Murdoch told Charlie to take Burl outside, while the rest of them talked.

Charlie wanted to hear what they were going to talk about, but-said that way by Murdoch, she didn't have much choice

but to obey.

She took Burl's hand, and gently began to lead him towards the door.

"Can't Burl stay here tonight, again?" she asked, quietly.

"We're going to discuss things," Murdoch told her.

"Well-he can have _my_ bed," Charlie said. "That way, you don't have to give up yours, Murdoch-and I don't mind. Really,

I don't."

"That's generous of you, darling," Murdoch said. He smiled at Charlie slightly.

"It is," Scott agreed, quietly, but then added, "Go on now, Charlie. Don't go far, though."

Charlie took Burl outside. She'd dropped his hand, and once they were outside, Charlie asked him where he would

like to walk to.

"Just walk," Burl said.

The two pups were coming around the side of the barn, running and playing together.

Charlie went to scoop up her favorite one, the one she wanted to keep.

"Here's the pups," she told Burl. "You know-the ones that you said I could have."

"I did?" Burl asked, reaching out to smooth the fur of the puppy Charlie held.

"Yes."

"Where are my dogs?" Burl asked then, seeming to be upset. "There were three of them-they're large, all of them-"

"Yes. I know," Charlie said, wondering what she should say. Burl seemed to be getting more agitated.

"Where are they?" he asked, again.

"We'll ask Scott, and Murdoch about it," Charlie said, grasping at the first thing to come to her mind.

She took Burl over to where the Rose of Sharon grew along the side of the hacienda. He smelled the sweet

fragrance, and seemed content to sit there, on one of the iron benches.

"Lettie had Rose of Sharon, growing near her window-" Burl said, his hands folded, and looking peaceful and in

faraway thought.

Charlie had learned, thru time and observation, that sometimes it was possible to keep Burl talking and telling stories, if she

responded and encouraged him in a certain way.

So she asked, softly, "Did she like the scent of it?"

"Oh, my, yes, she did," Burl said. "Sometimes she would wear it in her hair-her hair was long, you know-"

"Was it?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. So long that if she let it down, it would hang nearly to her knees," Burl said, his eyes soft in memories.

"She must never have cut it," Charlie said.

"No. She never did. Until she became ill-" Burl said, and his voice trailed off. He looked suddenly sorrowful, as if the

happy memories had transformed into sadness.

Charlie felt her chest constrict. She didn't want to make Burl feel sad. She didn't. But, he'd never revealed that detail before in

his ramblings. Is that what happened to the mysterious Lettie? She become ill-had she died?

"She got sick?" Charlie asked, softly, hesitantly.

"The doctors-they cut her hair. They said it was because of the fever," Burl said. He turned to look at Charlie, and said,

"She thought she was ugly when they cut her hair, did you know that?"

"But, she wasn't, was she?" Charlie asked, to keep him talking. "She was still beautiful?"

Burl's gaze drifted off, as did his story-telling. "Where's my dogs? Do you know?" he asked, again. And, just like that,

Charlie knew he was done telling stories. At least for the time being.

 **Lancer**

After a few more minutes, in which Charlie sat beside Burl on the bench, and they were both silent, Scott came around

the corner of the hacienda.

Immediately, Charlie sat up straighter, looking at Scott hopefully. "What did you all decide?" she asked.

Scott gave a slight shake of his head. Meant, Charlie knew, to signify that she should hold her questions.

With an ease that Charlie admired, Scott took Burl inside, with Charlie following. Burl was left in the

care of Teresa, and Val stood outside, with Murdoch and Scott. Charlie infiltrated herself on the edge of their circle to listen.

Val started by saying, "Well, we'll how it gets along, then. Send me a message if you need any help, otherwise I'll

ride back out in a day or so to check on the old fella."

Murdoch nodded in agreement. "We'll talk more when you come back out," he said.

Val said his goodbyes, and tapped Charlie on the nose. When he'd mounted his horse, and was riding out, Charlie looked

up at Murdoch and Scott.

"Burl's staying here?" she asked, feeling excited, and tugging at Scott's hand.

"For a few days, at least," Murdoch said. "We'll see how it goes."

"But, if it goes well, he can stay?" Charlie persisted.

"Charlie," Scott said, and laid his hand on the back of her head. A quiet caution for her to simmer down.

As Murdoch went back inside, Scott looked at Charlie.

"Time I was getting out to help Johnny," he said. "And time for you to get on with your day, too."

"Teresa will probably want me to help with Burl," Charlie said, still holding onto his other hand.

"Probably. You have other things to do, too, though," he reminded her.

"I'll do my chores first," Charlie said.

"And, you've got your lessons to do," he added.

"I'll bet there aren't many of the kids who are doing lessons while we're out of school," Charlie said, regretfully.

"Maybe not," Scott said, giving her a half-smile. "But you do yours, just the same."

Charlie sighed. "Alright," she said.

 **L**

Charlie did her regular chores, and then spent the next little while helping Maria to hang laundry on the line.

After lunch, which consisted of only she and Teresa and Burl, eating at the kitchen table, she took Burl out walking.

Teresa cautioned her not to go far, and Charlie objected, "I thought we'd go towards the creek."

"I don't think you should. Not with him, by yourself," Teresa said.

"Why?"

"He was restless this morning-I think he might be too much for you to manage by yourself, if he were to become

upset," Teresa said.

Charlie thought seriously about arguing, but held her tongue. She and Burl ended with just walking down the long lane

leading to the hacienda, and then back again.

Charlie gathered some wildflowers, and Burl seemed to enjoy looking at them.

Always curious about the mysterious Lettie, Charlie asked Burl what her favorite color had been, hoping that would lead

him to talk of her.

"She was partial to all the bright ones-" Burl said. "She wore a lot of yellow-her governess used to tell her it was

too bright to wear for everyday, but she...once she had a ball gown made of yellow-" His voice trailed off a bit.

"Did she?" Charlie prompted, anxious to keep him talking.

"She said no one else could make it for her-I worked on it for two weeks to get it just right."

"Did you make dresses for other girls, too?" Charlie asked.

"I did," he acknowledged. "But-that was for my pay-when I made something for Lettie, well, it was special. I didn't do

it for money."

There was still the most important question of the Lettie mystery. Had Lettie been a friend, or a relative, or

Burl's true love?

As was usual, after he had talked for a while, sharing his memories, Burl became silent. And withdrawn. He seemed

nearly sullen.

Charlie had learned not to push at him when he became like that. She kept still, as they continued walking back towards

the hacienda. She saw Johnny and one of the newer ranch hands riding up from the pastures. Johnny waved, and Charlie

waved back to him.

"There's Johnny," she said, in conversation.

Burl's watery eyes seemed to fasten on Johnny's figure in the distance. "Johnny," he said, as if considering something.

"Yes," Charlie said, thinking that Burl must be trying to get his thoughts straight. "You know Johnny-he's got dark hair, and-"

"No one truly knows him," Burl said.

"What?" Charlie asked, confused.

"He has secrets," Burl said. "Deep."

Charlie hesitated. There was something disturbing about the way Burl said that.

"What secrets?" Charlie asked, feeling breathless with discovery. It wasn't right-asking Burl that, and hoping to hear

something about Johnny. Charlie knew it wasn't right. And, how would Burl know anything for certain about Johnny's past,

anyway? Still...

"Things that disturb him," Burl said, still watching Johnny in the distance. "Things that keep him from sleeping."

Charlie felt her stomach rebel at that. It made her feel badly, thinking of Johnny being so bothered.

Teresa was coming out of the hacienda, standing in the front, shading her eyes against the sun, and looking for

the two of them.

"Come in for a cold drink!" Teresa called out.

As they walked up closer, Teresa put a hand on Burl's shoulder. "How would you like some lemonade?" she asked.

"I'd like it fine," Burl said.

In the kitchen, Maria poured glass of cold lemonade. Charlie sat, sipping at her drink, and watching Burl.

"What's wrong?" Teresa asked.

Charlie shrugged, not wanting to say anything just then, with Burl sitting right there. Burl was talking of his dogs,

and Maria was listening, and making occasional responses to him.

"Come help me change the sheets," Teresa told Charlie. They left Burl in Maria's capable care, and

went upstairs, where they put clean sheets on Charlie's bed, and then on the spare bed in Teresa's bedroom.

It had been decided that Burl would sleep in Charlie's bed, and Charlie would share a room with Teresa for

a bit.

"Sometimes, it seems as though Burl _knows_ things," Charlie said, as they spread the clean sheet across

the spare bed.

"Knows what?" Teresa asked.

"Well-things about other people, things that would be hard for him to know."

"Like what?"

"Well, he said that Johnny has secrets," Charlie said.

For a moment, Teresa looked nonplussed. Then, she said, "Well, he probably does. Everybody has some sort of

secrets, Charlie. Johnny's a grown man, and he hasn't had the easiest life. So, he's bound to have things that he doesn't

necessarily talk about. It doesn't have to mean that they're secrets."

Charlie gave Teresa a look as if to say, ' _typical grownup talk'._

"Try not to take everything Burl says so literally," Teresa said.

"What does that mean?" Charlie demanded.

"It means-that he may not mean exactly what he says," Teresa tried to explain. "Or, he may mean it a different

way."

At Charlie's quizzical look, Teresa shrugged. "It's hard to explain," she said. "It really just means don't read so much into

what he says. It's just his way to talk in riddles."

Shortly after that, Burl was ensconced on the sofa in Murdoch's library, covered with a quilt, and taking a nap.

Charlie went back outdoors, to wait for Scott to come back from wherever on the ranch he'd been working. She spent

her waiting time playing with the two pups.

When Scott did arrive back near the barns, he was with Murdoch, and Charlie went to greet them, the dogs at her heels.

"How was your morning?" Scott asked her, dismounting.

"It was good," Charlie responded. "I took Burl for a walk, and he ate lunch, and now he's taking a nap."

"Good," Scott said, looking faintly amused.

"He keeps asking about his dogs, though," Charlie relayed. "I wasn't sure what to tell him. So, I just said that we'd ask

you both about it."

"Well, it sounds as though you handled it just right," Murdoch told her.

"I think he's going to keep asking, though," Charlie said. "Do you think he could see them soon, maybe?"

"We'll see," Murdoch said.

"Teresa and I got my bedroom all ready for him," Charlie chattered on.

Scott paused, pulling off his leather gloves. "That's fine," he said, and he and Murdoch exchanged a look. "It's not

definite how long Burl's going to stay, Charlie."

"But, why?" Charlie asked, looking up at Scott, distressed. "He's doing real fine!"

"It's been _one_ night and _one_ day," Scott pointed out. "That's not enough to judge a long-term stay by."

Charlie's face was lined with disappointment.

"No need to get upset," Murdoch said. "We'll finish up having him here, until Val gets back, and then we'll talk

again with him and with the doctor."

"But, I can help with him, every day," Charlie continued to protest.

"School will begin again soon," Scott reminded. "And then you won't be here, all day, every day. It's not necessarily fair

to expect Teresa and Maria to manage him during the days. They have their own things to do."

Charlie knew he had a good point. Still, it was hard to hear.

"I'll tend to your horse," Scott told Murdoch.

"I'll see you inside," Murdoch told Scott. "I'm ready for one of Maria's good meals."

He tapped Charlie on her nose, and went towards the hacienda.

"Want to help me?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Charlie said, and Scott handed her Murdoch's reins. They led the horses to the gate, and untacked them, rubbing them

down, and then turning them out into the pastures. Charlie had been watching Scott, covertly, while they'd done their task.

Now, he paused, and looked down at her. "What is it, Charlie?" he asked.

When Charlie only nibbled at her lip, he said, "I can tell you have something on your mind."

"How do you always know?" Charlie asked.

Scott gave her an indulgent smile. "I guess I've gotten to know you fairly well," he said. He made it sound as though it

was a good thing. _Special._

Charlie pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his middle.

"You do, don't you?" she asked him. "Know me well, I mean?"

"I think I do."

"And, I know _you_ well, too, don't I?" she continued.

"I'd say so," Scott said, running his hand over her braid.

When Charlie smiled at him, he asked, "So, what is it that's on your mind?"

"If Burl was to stay for awhile, I could stay home and help out. Just until he got more settled. I could do my

lessons at home-"

"We've had this discussion before," Scott reminded her.

"Yes. But, it's for a _real_ reason this time. I'd keep up with my lessons-"

"Have you finished the ones I assigned to you last night?" he asked.

Immediately, Charlie's expression changed. "Not yet," she said. "But, there's still lots of the day left, and I've been

busy."

Scott raised an eyebrow at her and Charlie hurriedly tacked on, "I'm going to do them, though!"

"You like school, don't you?" he asked her.

"Yes, I do," Charlie admitted.

"You'd miss seeing your friends if you were at home every day," he added.

"I suppose," she said.

Scott patted her hair. "You're going to have some real snarls to brush out of this hair tonight."

"Are you finished with work?" Charlie asked.

"I think so, for today."

"Good," Charlie said, with satisfaction. As they walked towards the house together, Charlie squeezed his hand.

"Will you play a game of Whist with me?" she asked him.

"I imagine I could be talked into it," he said, smiling at her.

 **L**


	82. Disturbed sleep

During the night, tucked into the smaller bed in Teresa's bedroom, Charlie was awakened by noises. At first, when she was

startled awake, she wasn't sure just from what. There were a few moments of silence, and then she heard scuffling, and low

voices. Coming from the hallway and beyond.

Charlie slipped from the bed, the floor cool beneath her bare feet. She went to the door, and opened it just slightly,

peeking out. She could hear the voices again, coming from her own bedroom, it seemed.

"What is it?" Teresa asked, now standing behind Charlie.

"I think it's Burl," Charlie said.

Teresa stepped up to look out into the hallway.

At that moment, there was a hollering. "Ya foul _dryshite!"_ came the scream.

"It is!" Charlie said, and would have hustled out of the doorway and down the hall, but for Teresa's hand

on her arm.

"Wait," Teresa said. "Murdoch's with him."

Johnny's bedroom door opened the next door down, and he appeared, shirtless, his pants pulled on, and running

a hand thru his dark hair.

"It's Burl," Teresa offered in explanation.

Johnny sighed heavily and went past them, as Burl screeched, "Take ur flamin' dirty hands off!"

"You just settle down!" Murdoch could be heard replying.

Johnny disappeared into Charlie's bedroom, where his voice joined Murdoch's.

Charlie pulled her arm free of Teresa and went to the doorway of her room. The sight of Murdoch and Scott holding

onto Burl, as he laid on the bed, made Charlie gasp.

"I'll not drink it!" Burl was yelling.

"Hold it up, Johnny," Murdoch was saying.

Johnny, a glass in his hand, lifted it to Burl's mouth, as Scott said, "Sit him up a bit," to Murdoch.

"You ornery codger," Johnny accused, as Burl tried to turn his mouth away from the glass.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Charlie burst out, stepping to the foot of the bed, and watching the scene with

horror.

Teresa was there, standing to the side.

Murdoch's grip slipped, and Burl's fist swept up to connect in the vicinity of Murdoch's eye.

Murdoch regripped the old man's offending arm, and Johnny tried again to get Burl to drink from the glass.

"Is it his medicine?" Teresa asked, pressing closer.

"Sleeping powders, from the doctor," Murdoch verified.

"I can try," Teresa said. "Maybe he'll take it from a female-"

"No. I don't want you being hurt," Murdoch refused, sounding a bit out of breath from the tussle.

Finally, within the next few minutes, Johnny managed to get at least of portion of the liquid into Burl's mouth.

"There. That's enough," Murdoch was saying.

"I don't know how much actually went in," Johnny said. "And how much went _on."_

"It's alright," Murdoch said, and Johnny stepped back a bit from the bed, the mostly empty glass in his hand.

Burl was still struggling, and thrashing around.

Johnny's patience had clearly come to a near end. He leaned closer, and said, "You settle down, old man-you hear me?"

Burl seemed to take in Johnny's tone, and seemed to calm somewhat.

"Turn me loose," Burl said.

"Not just yet, I don't think," Murdoch said.

"I'll take over," Johnny said, and exchanged places with Murdoch.

Burl laid down, against the plump pillows. He seemed to see Charlie, then. There was a slight smile on his

lined face. "Ya came, did ya?" he said.

It was apparent, to everyone then, that Burl thought it was Lettie standing at the foot of the bed.

"Yes. I came," Charlie said.

"Come sit with me," Burl said, calm now.

Charlie would have gone, immediately, to sit on the bed beside Burl. It was obvious, though, that none of the adults

in the room were in favor of such.

"She can't, right now," Scott told Burl. His tone was kind, but firm.

"Just for a minute," Burl said, his voice sounding weaker.

Charlie gave Scott a look of questioning. "Can't I?" she asked, quietly.

Scott shook his head in refusal. "Got it, Johnny?" he asked, and Johnny nodded. Scott straightened up, and

came around to where Charlie stood. A hand on her shoulder, and he guided Charlie from the room.

"Alright?" Murdoch asked Johnny.

"Yeah. Seems he's near asleep now," Johnny said.

Murdoch and Teresa joined Scott and Charlie in the hallway outside of the bedroom.

Murdoch blew out a breath. "Whew," he said.

"What happened?" Teresa asked. "He wouldn't go to sleep?"

"He seemed to, and then he started in-prowling about, and hollering. Seemed to think I was somebody named

McCune," Murdoch related.

"Not a person that he seemed pleased with," Scott said, wryly.

"No," Murdoch agreed. "Definitely not pleased with Mr. McCune, whoever he is."

Teresa reached up to touch Murdoch's eye, where he'd been pummeled.

"Come down to the kitchen," she urged him. "We should put something on your eye."

"He packs a punch for an old fellow," Murdoch said.

"I'll make some coffee, and then tend to your eye," Teresa offered.

"Probably shouldn't have coffee this late, but I will," Murdoch said, with a sigh, and turned to Scott. "Scott?"

"I'll be down in a couple of minutes," Scott said. "I'll make sure Johnny doesn't need any more help first."

Murdoch nodded and he and Teresa began down the stairs.

Scott looked down at Charlie. "Back to bed, kiddo," he told her.

"Can't I stay up with everyone for awhile?" Charlie pleaded. "And make sure Burl's alright?"

"Burl's going to be alright. He'll be asleep any time now," Scott said.

Charlie gave him a pleading look from her big brown eyes, and Scott paused, and then said, "Alright. For a few minutes."

Scott went back to the doorway of Charlie's bedroom, with her following along behind him.

Johnny was standing now, beside the bed, in which Burl's slight form appeared to be still, and quiet.

"Asleep?" Scott asked him.

Johnny turned slightly and nodded. "Think so," he said, softly.

"Coffee downstairs," Scott said, just as softly, and then he motioned Charlie out of the doorway, and they

headed downstairs. Walking down the stairs with Scott, Charlie could feel the familiar knot in her stomach. The one

that arose every time that Burl showed this side of himself.

"Burl doesn't mean to act so badly," Charlie said, looking up and trying to read Scott's expression.

"We know that, Charlie."

Johnny was coming along behind them, and they went into the kitchen together. Murdoch was already seated at the table

there, while Teresa was standing next to him, dabbing witch hazel on a compress and placing the compress on his eye.

Scott gave Murdoch's shoulder a pat. "Doing alright?" he asked.

"He sure caught me by surprise," Murdoch said.

Johnny paused, and lifted the compress away to examine Murdoch's eye, and then let Teresa put it back on again. "He surely did

nail ya, didn't he?"

"I still think he might not have reacted that way with a female," Teresa said.

"We won't know that, because I won't have you testing your theory," Murdoch said, with authority.

"That's right," Johnny said. "Anytime the old fella's like that, you steer clear, Teresa." He tapped Charlie on the nose. "You too, pequeno."

"He thinks I'm Lettie, though," Charlie protested. "When he thinks I'm _her_ , he would never hurt me."

"Charlie," Scott said, abruptly.

Charlie turned to look at him, startled. Scott sat down in the chair across from Murdoch, and eyed Charlie.

"You heard what was said," he told her, sternly. "You'll mind what you were told."

Charlie felt her face get warm, and then they, the adults, went on talking. Johnny stepped over to touch the coffee pot on

the stove, lightly, with one finger. He poured the warmed up coffee, setting cups in front of Murdoch and Scott.

"Teresa?" he offered.

"No. Thank you," Teresa said.

"Pequeno?"

Charlie looked to Johnny, surprised. And pleased. She very rarely was allowed to have coffee.

She glanced at Scott, thinking he might curtail Johnny's offer. But, Scott said nothing, and Charlie

looked back to Johnny, and nodded eagerly. "Yes, please," she told him.

Johnny filled a cup half-full of coffee, and then another, for himself. He came to sit in the third chair at the table,

as Teresa took the last chair. Johnny patted his knee in invitation. "Comere," he told Charlie.

Charlie came to sit on his knee, and he pushed the half-full cup of coffee in front of her, and pulled the sugar

container over closer, as well.

Charlie filled her allotted coffee with two heaping teaspoons of sugar, and stirred it.

The family began talking, then, of Burl, and the care that he was likely to require.

"It's not right to put it off onto you, Teresa, or Maria," Murdoch was saying.

"I'm willing to try," Teresa said.

"I know you are, darling," Murdoch said, reaching out his free hand to cover Teresa's.

"Where will he go, if he doesn't stay here?" Charlie spoke up.

The adults exchanged glances, and Murdoch said, gently, "We don't know that, sweetheart. It's possible he has some

family-somewhere."

"If he does, why would they have left him alone all this time?" Charlie asked. "And never come to see him?"

None of them had an answer for that. She could see.

"Val and the doctor are trying to investigate some possibilities," Scott said, instead.

"You mean, like the sanitarium?" Charlie asked.

"Possibly," Scott said.

Charlie gave a small sigh.

"We're going to do whatever is in our power to do to help Burl, Charlie," Murdoch told her.

Charlie met the older man's gaze. She nodded.

"Yes, sir, I know," she said, quietly.

Johnny rubbed her back in comforting circles.

"So we'll continue on, for a few days, and see how things go," Murdoch said.

"We're not gonna have any more nonsense like what happened tonight," Johnny said. "He can't be gettin' in such a state that

he's throwin' punches."

"Well, we'll see," Murdoch said.

Charlie sipped at her coffee, and both she and Teresa were cautioned that if they were with Burl, and he, at any time,

grew agitated, they were not to attempt to to do anything beyond vocal calming.

"Even if it means leaving him wherever he is, that's what you do," Murdoch said, addressing both of the girls.

"Alright," Teresa agreed, and Charlie nodded.

The group of five finished their coffee, and talk, and began to make their way back up the stairs to their respective beds.

"Hopefully he'll sleep thru the night," Johnny said, quietly, at the head of the stairs, gesturing to the bedroom where

Burl was sleeping.

"He should. Those powders will do their job," Murdoch said.

Teresa made the comment as the girls were preparing to head back to bed that she hoped the coffee wouldn't

keep Charlie from sleeping.

And, it didn't. Charlie found that as soon as she was back into the bed she could hardly keep her eyes open.

 **Lancer**


	83. The legend of Lettie

At breakfast the next morning, the family was somewhat subdued, and still tired.

Burl was still sleeping, and the discussion was on whether to go wake him up or not.

"I say let him sleep," Johnny said.

"If he sleeps too late, then he might not sleep tonight," Teresa pointed out.

"We don't need any more late nights," Scott added.

"Let's have our breakfast, and then, if he's not up, we'll wake him," Murdoch said.

They began talking about work for the day, and then, later, as they were finished, Charlie scooted her chair

up to the table.

"I'll take Burl for a walk," she offered.

"Only around the house or the barn," Murdoch told her.

"I'll keep an eye out while I'm hanging the laundry," Teresa promised him.

Once the men folks had gone outside, to join Jelly and the other men to being the day's work, Charlie helped Maria

do up the dishes, while Teresa began on the laundry.

Things were peaceful in the kitchen, and pleasant, with the door open to the breeze, and the smell of bread baking.

In the midst of the peace and quietness, there was a thud that could be heard from upstairs. Both Charlie and Maria

paused, to listen.

"Que el ruido?" Maria said, tilting her head to listen more closely. "Senor Burl?"

"I'll go see," Charlie said, and sped out of the kitchen, with her apron flapping.

She could hear Maria calling after her, but ran on. At the top of the stairs, and to the doorway of her own bedroom, Charlie

came to a stop, Maria just behind her, breathing heavily. Teresa was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Burl was sitting beside her.

Charlie saw that Teresa was holding her elbow with her opposite hand, rubbing at it. For that reason, Charlie didn't ask any questions.

She knew already, with a sinking feeling, what had happened.

Maria asked what the loud thudding had been a few minutes before.

"I bumped into the dresser," Teresa said.

"Sure and I'm sorry for it-" Burl said.

"It's no harm done," Teresa said, in a soothing tone.

Maria wrinkled her forehead. "El codo?" she asked, with a nod at Teresa's rubbing of her elbow. Immediately Teresa stopped the rubbing, lowering

her hand to her lap.

"I jarred it-it's alright," Teresa said.

Charlie knew that Teresa wasn't being quite truthful, and she knew that Maria knew it, too.

Within the next few minutes, Maria had things organized, and under her control. Burl was asking for some of his material,

and Charlie was sent to fetch it, along with needles and thread. Burl was thusly installed in a corner of the kitchen, where he worked

with the material at the table.

Charlie was sent to finish hanging the laundry, and when she came back inside, Teresa was sitting holding a chunk of ice in a cloth

on her arm.

Charlie wanted to ask Teresa what had happened upstairs, but she didn't think it was best to do so in front of Maria. For that lady's mouth

was set in a line of obvious disapproval. When an hour or more had passed, and Charlie was busy chopping vegetables and watching

Burl work with his project, he announced that he was weary, and folded his supplies up neatly, and nodded his head to the three

females and said, "I'll take a rest."

Maria went after him, and Charlie knew it was to make sure he was set for that rest on the sofa in Murdoch's study.

In the brief few minutes that she knew that there were, Charlie asked Teresa what had happened.

Teresa shook her head slightly. "I surprised him too much, when I was trying to wake him up-"

"Did he push you into the dresser?" Charlie asked, horrified.

Maria was bustling back into the kitchen, and, now that Burl was occupied elsewhere, she was intent on answers.

"Teresa, lo que paso antes?" _Teresa, what happened before?_

"I startled Burl," Teresa said. "Sorpresa, Senor Burl," she amended.

"Te golpeo?" _Did he strike you?_ Maria asked.

Teresa shook her head. "No. No lo hizo." _He did not._

"It was nothing-an accidente," Teresa said. _Accident._

Maria pursed her lips together tightly, and gave Teresa a long look which spoke more than words.

"Le diremos al Senor Murdoch," Maria said. _We will tell Mr. Murdoch._

There was a firmness in the older woman's tone.

Lunch was just Burl, and the two girls. Maria stayed nearby while they ate. Burl ate his lunch and then went to sit

outside on the bench in the sunshine, working again on his sewing.

Charlie was sent to pick the garden, and once she'd taken the vegetables into Maria, she went back out to sit near Burl.

She watched him work, fasinated by the way he moved his knarled fingers thru the soft material.

"Did Lettie always wear nice dresses?" Charlie asked him.

Without looking up, Burl said, "She spent the time she must in what she was expected to wear-" Burl chuckled. "But when she

could slip away-well, then she would tuck her dresses up, and wade the pond."

"Did you go with her?" Charlie asked.

"When I could get away from my chores, then I did," he said.

"And she could get away from her chores," Charlie echoed.

Burl looked up, his eyes bright. "Oh, Lettie never had chores to hold her," he said. "It was other things that held

her from doing what it was that she pleased."

"What other things?" Charlie asked, breathless to keep him talking.

"Her studies, and her embroidery-her mother was always insistent she do that embroidery-" Burl began to chuckle. "She hated that so much,

she used to prick her finger on purpose so the blood spots would stain her handwork. That would give her the excuse to leave it,

and she'd take the opportunity to slip outdoors then."

"To pick flowers? And go to the pond?" Charlie prompted.

"Yes."

There was a pause and then Charlie took her chance.

"You loved Lettie, didn't you?" she dared to ask him.

Burl's watery eyes settled on Charlie. "Oh, yes, I did," he said, fervently. "She was a dear, sweet girl. Her heart was the

largest part of her-"

"Why didn't you marry her?" Charlie asked.

"Oh, no," Burl said. "That was not to happen. They wouldn't allow it."

Intrigued, and thinking that she had never gotten this far in the story before, Charlie scooted forward.

"Who wouldn't allow it?" she asked, breathless.

"Her family-her brother loathed the sight of me."

"Why didn't he like you?" Charlie asked.

Burl began to tell the story of how Lettie's family had been very wealthy, and her brother had been a Baron. The brother and Lettie's mother

had wanted her to marry someone of her own social standing and class.

"They didn't find the likes of me to be suitable," Burl said. "And, it was so. I was not nearly good enough for her."

"She loved you, too?" Charlie asked.

"She did," Burl said, sounding definite. And proud.

"Couldn't you and she have run away to get married?" she asked, then.

"We might have-but we never got past the talking of it." At this the old man looked sadly at Charlie. "I loved her all of her life, from when

she was a child, to when she was a young girl-I know I would have loved even more the woman she would have become-"

"What happened to her?" Charlie asked, when he paused.

"She got a fever, and even though they had the best doctors, she became so weak-they cut her hair, you know-her beautiful long

blonde hair." Burl leaned forward a bit, and said in a low tone, as if sharing a secret, "I slipped into her room to see her, right into

her window, I did-until they caught me at it, and threw me out again."

Charlie knew the ending of the story already. She'd always secretly believed she knew what had happened to Lettie.

Still, when she heard Burl put it into actual words, it made her so sad.

"She lived two days after that, I didn't see her again-but one of the maids there, she was my cousin, and she said

that Lettie lay all the last afternoon, calling out for me."

L


	84. Teresa

When the afternoon was waning down, and supper was being prepared, Charlie heard the men coming to the door leading

into the kitchen. She put down the silverware in her hand, and went to open the door to greet them.

"Hi!" she said, brightly.

"Hi, yourself," Johnny said, giving her a poke in the ribs.

"Hey there, kiddo," Scott said.

Charlie closed the door behind them, as they came into the kitchen. Johnny had immediately gone over to snitch a bit of the

frosting that Maria was stirring in a bowl.

Maria gave Johnny an affectionate smile.

"How are things here?" Murdoch asked. "Day go alright?"

It was obvious that he meant how Burl had done.

Teresa, who was sitting at the table, chopping up some carrots, was silent at first, and then, at a look from Maria, said,

"He did fine. He's working on his sewing again. Upstairs."

"What's he sewin' up, anyhow?" Johnny asked, dipping his finger into the frosting bowl a second time.

"Suficiente," Maria scolded lightly. _Enough._

"I'm not certain what he's making," Teresa said, in response to Johnny's question.

"So-no problems then?" Murdoch asked, continuing his questioning.

Before Teresa could speak again, Maria spoke. "Teresa esta herida." _Teresa is hurt._

Immediately all three Lancer men turned their attention towards Teresa.

"Hurt?" Murdoch asked, his forehead lined in concern.

"What's wrong?" Johnny asked her.

"I'm not. I'm fine," Teresa said, firmly, giving Maria a discouraging look.

Murdoch looked from Teresa to the older woman, who was eyeing them all, with a look of disapproval.

"What is it, Teresa?" Murdoch asked, his manner insistent.

"Murdoch-really-" Teresa began.

"Teresa," Murdoch said. There was no denying the authority in his tone.

Teresa sighed a bit, and laid down her paring knife. "I bumped into the dresser upstairs. It jarred my ribs a bit. That's all."

Murdoch looked again from Teresa to Maria, and then back again, obviously putting _two and two_ _together_ in his mind.

"And this happened _how_ , exactly?" Murdoch asked. His tone was quiet. But, again, intent.

"I startled Burl when I was waking him up," Teresa said.

"He shoved ya?" Johnny demanded.

"No, he did _not_ shove me," Teresa said, standing up abruptly, and scooping the cut-up carrots into a bowl. "I startled him, and he

sat up suddenly, and thrashed around."

"And your ribs are hurt?" Murdoch clarified, stepping closer to Teresa, and speaking more softly.

"Not so much," Teresa told him, with a small smile.

"Should the doctor take a look at them?" Murdoch asked, looking towards Maria.

"There is no need for _that,"_ Teresa said. "Maria's already tended to me just fine-"

"Maria?" Murdoch asked.

"Creo que ellas estan bien," Maria said. _I think they are fine._ "Ella deberia descansar." _She should rest._

Murdoch again gave Teresa such an intent going-over that Teresa flushed. But, no more was said at that moment

about it all.

As Charlie began to set the table, and food was brought in, the family sat down to their dinner.

L

During supper, it was mostly Scott and Murdoch who did the talking, bringing Burl into it at times. Teresa was quiet, and

Johnny, too, was sparing with his words. He kept his gaze on Teresa, and Burl, and said little. Charlie felt the undercurrents at

the table, and kept still, as well, fearful of saying the wrong thing. It was obvious to Charlie that Johnny was brooding about

something, and that Murdoch, though talking, was also containing some sort of emotion. Anger, perhaps. Or something else. Charlie

wasn't certain about that part of it.

When it was time to clear the table, Johnny took Burl off. "Let's you and me take a walk 'round outside, old timer," he told Burl.

Murdoch sat where he was for a long few moments, his fingers gently moving his coffee cup to and fro. Teresa was watching him,

looking somewhat apprehensive. Scott got to his feet, and said, "Let's you and I clear the table, kiddo," to Charlie.

Charlie stood up, as well, and obediently began to gather up plates.

"Let's go and have a talk, Teresa," Murdoch said, pushing back his cup, and standing.

Charlie took a look at Teresa and saw that Teresa wanted to protest, since she obviously knew what was coming from Murdoch. But,

Teresa said nothing, and only stood, following Murdoch to the library.

Scott and Charlie worked together to clear the table, taking the dishes to the kitchen. Here, Maria washed the dishes and

Charlie and Scott both took a dish cloth and dried them.

Charlie tried not to worry about what was being discussed in Murdoch's library. Would Murdoch blame Burl? Of course, not

being entirely certain herself just what had happened-

Maria finished her chores, and said her goodbyes for the evening, chucking Charlie under the chin lightly. Scott hung the dish towel

he'd been using and laid it on the counter.

"Have you finished your school work?" he asked Charlie.

"All but some of the arithmetic," Charlie said. "I was wondering if you would help me with it."

Scott looked faintly amused. "Do you _really need_ help with it?"

"Well," Charlie considered. "It always seems to go easier if you _do_ help."

Scott smiled. "Well, go upstairs and get it, and I imagine I can help a bit."

"It's not upstairs. It's in the library," Charlie told him.

"Hmm," Scott said. "Well, we'll wait and take a look at it after a bit, then. We'll let Murdoch and Teresa have their talk, first."

Charlie folded her own cloth and laid it near the one Scott had used.

"Burl wouldn't mean to hurt Teresa," Charlie said, tentatively.

"I'm sure in his right frame of mind that he wouldn't," Scott said.

Charlie studied him out of her huge brown eyes. "Does that mean you agree or disagree?" she asked.

"It means-just what I said. If Burl was in the mind-set where he was himself, and not upset or agitated by something, then I agree

that he wouldn't intentionally hurt Teresa. Or you, or anybody else," Scott said. "If-on the other hand, he isn't in that frame of mind, then

I think he's capable of harm."

Charlie studied him, biting at her lower lip, as Johnny ushered Burl back into the kitchen from outside.

"He says he wants to sew some more before sleep," Johnny announced. "Want somethin' to drink, old timer?" he asked Burl.

"I wouldn't turn down a bit of whiskey," Burl said.

Johnny exchanged a look with Scott, and then said, "How about a cup of somethin' hot, instead?" he offered to Burl.

"Hot tea?" Scott suggested.

"A child's drink," Burl complained mildly, with no real heat. He tapped Charlie on the tip of her nose. "I'll see you on the morrow,

little one," he told her.

He turned to shuffle out of the kitchen, as Charlie said, "Goodnight, Burl."

Johnny began puttering around, preparing the cup of tea for Burl. "Where's Murdoch?" he asked.

"Talking with Teresa," Scott said, and Johnny nodded, as if he knew what was about with that.

"What happened, exactly?" Johnny asked, as he set the tea kettle on the stove.

Scott shook his head slightly, and when Johnny looked at Charlie, he asked, "Pequeno? You know?"

"I don't know what happened _exactly,"_ Charlie specified. "But, Burl's not cruel. He likes Teresa."

"We know that, little one," Johnny said, running his hand over Charlie's hair.

They joined Murdoch and Teresa in the library shortly afterwards, and the talk was on other things. Scott oversaw Charlie's arithmetic,

and then, sitting together in compatibility, the talk turned to Burl.

Murdoch said, appearing slightly grim, that one of them, either he, or Scott or Johnny, would be getting Burl up in the mornings

from now on. It wouldn't be left to Teresa, or Maria, or Charlie. Teresa had apparently been able to convince Murdoch that Burl

hadn't meant any true harm, that he'd been startled and had reacted so swiftly that Teresa had fallen into the corner of the

dresser.

"Speakin' of tendin' to him, I'll head up and see that he's set for beddin' down," Johnny said, standing.

"The sleeping powders are in my room," Murdoch told him.

Johnny nodded, and said he would take up a glass.

When Johnny had gone, there was quiet in the room for a few moments.

"I think I'll head up to bed, now, too," Teresa said. She stood up, and bent to kiss Murdoch's cheek.

She said her goodnights, and left to go upstairs.

When it was past eight o'clock, and Charlie was sent up, she went to Teresa's door, and tapped gently.

"It's Charlie," she identified herself.

"Come in," Teresa said, and when Charlie walked in, she found Teresa sitting on the edge of her bed,

clutching a hand around her ribs.

"What is it, Charlie?" Teresa asked.

"I just wanted to say goodnight, and see if you were really alright," Charlie said.

"Close the door," Teresa said.

Charlie turned to obey, and sat on the edge of the bed beside Teresa.

Teresa stood, and went behind her dressing screen. She made a few moaning sounds, and then reappeared, wearing

only her shift and petticoat.

"I'm fine," she said. "Don't worry, Charlie."

She sat down at her dressing table, and began to brush her hair, and Charlie saw her wince.

"But your ribs really do hurt you, don't they?" Charlie asked, worriedly.

"They're sore," Teresa admitted.

"You didn't tell Murdoch how sore they were, did you?"

"I didn't lie to him," Teresa said, looking at Charlie in the reflection of the mirror.

Charlie watched, soberly, as Teresa went back to trying to brush her hair.

"I'm fine," Teresa said. "It was just an accident. I explained that to Murdoch. He understands." She put down her hairbrush,

and turned to face Charlie. "Try not to worry. He's not going to throw Burl out over it, Charlie."

"I'm glad about that," Charlie said. "But-I feel badly that you got hurt, Teresa."

Teresa scooted over slightly and gestured to Charlie. "Come here," she urged.

Charlie came over to sit beside Teresa on the small bench, and Teresa took Charlie's hand in hers.

"Burl just reacted," Teresa said. "Instinctively. He was frightened when I shook him awake like I did."

The two girls sat together until there was a light tap on the door, and Scott spoke. "Charlie?"

"Just a moment," Teresa called back. She reached for her wrap and Charlie helped her put it on, and then

went to open the door to Scott.

"We were just talking," she said, in explanation to him.

"Well, it's past your bedtime," Scott said.

Charlie said goodnight to Teresa and went to her own bedroom. Scott read to her out of the 'Eight Cousins' book, and

then tucked her in.

L


	85. Tribute

The next couple of days passed without major problem or incident. As far as Burl was concerned. Val came over for supper

on the second night, bringing then news that school would be resuming the next Monday. Miss Susan was back from visiting her mother,

and would be there Monday morning to ring the school bell.

Charlie had mixed feelings about the news. She missed seeing Rebecca every day and some of the other kids, but she liked

being at home, too. Spending the day at Lancer, and being able to help out with Burl. Still, there was nothing to be done about it.

They all, between them, had perfected a few things about filling Burl's time. Maria had discovered that he enjoyed working in

the garden, keeping the weeds pulled, and collecting the produce. Between doing that, and working on his sewing projects, and taking

several walks a day accompanied by either Charlie or Teresa, he seemed content for the most part.

On the fourth day that he'd been at the ranch, while out walking with Burl, Charlie was in a quandary as to what to do, when

Burl decided that he wanted to walk out further than was usual. Murdoch had given both Charlie and Teresa strict instructions

to not go past the perimeters that he'd set out. If Burl insisted, they were to call for Cip or one of the other ranch hands to

intervene, if Johnny, Scott or Murdoch were none of them nearby.

So, on this particular day, when Burl pointed to a grove of trees leading to the creek, Charlie tried to deter him.

"Let's walk the other way," she suggested, trying to sound firm.

But Burl was insistent. "I wanna see those trees down that way," he said, and began to stride towards the creek bank, amazingly well

for a man with a limp.

Charlie stood for a few moments, as he walked the opposite direction, considering what she should do. She didn't see Cip anywhere

nearby to holler to, and if she didn't catch up to Burl, who knows what he might take it into his head to do?

So, she ran to catch up with him, surprised at how far ahead he had gotten. Once at the creek, Burl looked around in apparent enjoyment

at the trees and sat down, with a satisfied sigh.

"I've been here before, haven't I?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Charlie said.

"I remember those trees, though-" Burl said, with a gesture. "I'm sure of it-"

"Maybe so," Charlie settled for saying. She didn't want to upset Burl by arguing with him.

Burl began to talk then, about constructing a net and using it to catch fish.

"That sounds like a fine plan, don't you think?" he asked Charlie.

"I've never seen it done-it would be a good way to catch fish alright," Charlie agreed.

"I like it here fine," Burl said, sounding vastly satisfied. "Mighty fine. It's a mighty pretty place."

Burl became quieter as time passed, and the sunlight began to filter thru the trees. He got so quiet, in fact, that Charlie scooted

closer to peer into his face. He was asleep. Just as quickly and easily as that.

Charlie left Burl sleeping there, in the safety of the grassy creek bank, and rolled up the hems of her overalls, and

went wading. She wasn't certain just how much time had passed, when she heard a whistling coming from above the creek

bank. The whistle sounded several times, and then her name was being called out strongly.

Charlie hurried thru the water to the bank, and climbed up, and from there she could see Scott in the distance. Johnny, too,

from the other direction. She called out in answer, waving her hand so that they would see her.

"Over here!" she called.

She walked a bit thru the grass in her bare feet to meet them halfway.

"We've been looking for you," Scott said, sounding disapproving. "Why didn't you tell somebody where you were

going off to?"

"I'm sorry-" Charlie said, as Johnny reached them as well. "Burl took it into his head to come down here, and I didn't want

him to go alone-I looked around for Cip but I didn't see him-"

"Where is the codger?" Johnny asked.

Charlie turned to point. "He's sitting on the bank, sleeping."

"You should have told Maria or Teresa you were coming this far," Scott went on.

"I thought he might get too far ahead of me," Charlie explained. "He was walking awfully fast-"

"The old fella _can_ step it off when he wants to, sure enough," Johnny said, mildly, and Charlie knew he was trying to

stick up for her, so Scott would stop his scolding.

"Alright," Scott said, in apparent acceptance of she and Johnny's comments. When Scott wasn't looking, Charlie gave

Johnny a grateful smile, and Johnny, in return, gave her a wink.

"Well, it's near time for supper," Johnny said. "We'd best see about rousin' him so he'll still sleep tonight."

Johnny went first, and Charlie went on along behind, with Scott. At the edge of the bank, Scott looked down at

Charlie's bare, wet feet, and the wet hem of her overalls.

"Best get your shoes on," he told her.

Charlie went to do that, scrambling down the bank, and going to the spot where she'd been wading, and where she'd left

her shoes and socks. Sitting down to pull on her socks, she looked up, to see Johnny crouched beside Burl,

as Burl leaned against the tree. Johnny appeared to be giving Burl a good shake, and Charlie shook her head, amused.

Burl must be in a deep sleep.

She heard Johnny saying something, but couldn't hear the exact words. Johnny was still crouched down, and Scott had come over

to stand beside him. Charlie was in the midst of putting on her first shoe, when she saw Scott crouch down, as well. She

saw Scott looking down then, towards her, as if to see if she was coming along.

Charlie gave him a slight smile, and held up her second shoe, in a sign that she was nearly finished.

Scott stood up, and, after a couple of moments, Johnny did, too. They stood together, talking, and then Scott

proceeded to walk down the bank until he was standing just above Charlie.

By now, the second shoe was on, and Charlie got to her feet. She hesitated, looking up at Scott.

"Burl says he might make a net-to use to catch fish in," Charlie reported. She gestured to the water behind her. "Would this be

a good place to have it, do you think?"

Instead of answering that, Scott held out a hand. "Come on up," he said, to her.

Charlie reached out to grasp his offered hand, and he pulled her up onto the bank. And then, to Charlie's puzzlement, Scott

said, quietly, "I want you to walk with me, alright?"

"Okay," Charlie said, looking up at him, puzzled. Scott kept her hand in his, and began to walk away from the creek, and

back towards the hacienda.

Pulling slightly, Charlie said, "Is Johnny bringing Burl?"

Scott kept walking, his hand tight around hers, and Charlie looked up at him. "What's wrong?" she asked him.

The muscles at the side of Scott's jaw were moving in and out, a sure sign that he was either angry or upset.

"Scott?" Charlie asked, getting a knot in her stomach.

Scott stopped walking and turned to face her, dropping her hand, and, instead, putting his hands on her upper arms. He leaned down

a bit so that he was nearly eye to eye with her.

"Charlie-" he began, and then paused. "Burl's dead."

Charlie stared at his face, her forehead furrowing. "What?" She looked back towards the bank, as if expecting to see

Johnny heading their way, with Burl alongside of him.

"He passed away, while he was sitting there-in his sleep," Scott said.

"How could he?" Charlie asked. "He was fine-he was talking, and he was walking real fast just before that-"

"I know," Scott said, softly. "Sometimes, it just happens that way."

"Maybe he's just sleeping hard, or maybe he had one of his fits, or something," Charlie said, not wanting to believe it.

Scott tightened his hold on her arms. "No, kiddo," he said, sounding sorry.

"I want to see him," Charlie said, and moved as if to go round him, and race down the creek bank. Scott grasped her arms,

and said, "No, Charlie."

"Why?" Charlie asked, looking up at him. She felt tears dropping from her cheeks onto the front of her overalls. "I want to, Scott!"

"I know," he said again, sounding regretful.

And then, he gathered Charlie up, big girl that she was, and proceeded to carry her towards the house. Tears dropping onto

Scott's shoulder, Charlie kept looking behind them.

"What's Johnny doing?" she said, her voice catching on a sob.

"He'll be along," Scott said.

"You're not going to leave Burl there, are you?" Charlie asked, her thoughts racing, horrified.

"No. We're not," he assured her.

Charlie buried her face in his neck, crying.

Carried in the front door, the noise brought Teresa, her hands full of flowers that she'd been arranging.

"Where's Murdoch?" Scott asked her.

"In the library-what is it? What's happened?" Teresa asked. "Is Charlie hurt?"

"No. Come on into the library," Scott said. The three of them went into the library, and Murdoch looked up in surprise,

from where she sat, at his desk.

"What is it?" he asked, standing immediately.

"It's Burl," Scott answered, quietly, and he and Murdoch must have exchanged a look without words. "I need to help Johnny."

"Of course," Murdoch said, and a few minutes later, Charlie was ensconced in Murdoch's oversized chair, covered with a quilt, with Teresa

sitting next to her. Murdoch had gone to fetch a ranch hand to ride to town, and ask the doctor and Val to come.

When Murdoch came back, he came over quietly, and without speaking, lifted Charlie up, and settled himself into the chair, with

her on his lap.

"I'll make her a cup of hot tea with sugar," Teresa said, and scurried from the room.

"Murdoch?" Charlie said, softly, into the quiet.

"Hmm?"

"How can a person just _die_ like that? He was talking to me-about fishing, and the trees, and then he went to sleep. What made him

 _die_ like that?" she asked.

"It's the way it happens sometimes," Murdoch said, his words echoing Scott's from earlier.

"But-I always thought that you could _tell,_ that somebody would act different or something, when they were about to die-" she said.

"Not always," Murdoch told her.

"What are Johnny and Scott going to do with-" Charlie hesitated, stumbling over her words. "What are they going to do?"

"They will bring him up, from the creek," Murdoch said. "And Doctor Burton, and Val, will-they'll decide what to do."

"Are they going to take him? Away from here, to town?"

"Yes. They will," he said. "They'll take him to the undertakers."

"I don't understand it, Murdoch," Charlie said, sorrowfully, resting her cheek on his chest.

"I'm very much older than you, darling, and I don't understand everything, myself," he said.

 **Lancer**

Val and the doctor arrived, and Charlie only knew that because the pups were barking, announcing their arrival. Murdoch

prepared to go outside, and Charlie followed him to the front door.

"I want to go, Murdoch," she said. It wasn't so much that she wanted to see Burl-she wasn't sure now that she did, at all. It was more

that she felt detached, and frightened, and wanted to be near Scott.

"Not right now," he said, his tone kind, but firm. He left her with Teresa, who tried to tempt her with the hot, sugary tea.

Charlie tried a couple of sips, mainly to pacify Teresa, who seemed nervous and upset.

The girls were sitting together, in the entry way, holding hands, when all the men came into the house. Teresa said she

would fetch some coffee, and Charlie stood there, taking in the somber group of five men.

"No coffee for us, Teresa," Val called after her. "We'll be heading on back to town."

Val gave Charlie a sympathetic look. "Rough, huh, Charlie?"

Charlie nodded, but found it too hard to speak just then.

Val ran his hand over Charlie's hair. "You were a good friend to him, kiddo," he said, quietly. "Don't forget that."

Charlie nodded, silent.

Doctor Burton paused beside Charlie as well. "It seems a shock," he said. "But this is much better than a prolonged illness, or

slow, painful death. He passed peacefully, without any pain, I think. And, at least he was here with folks who cared, enjoying the outdoors."

Charlie nodded again. As the two other men prepared to leave for town, Charlie thought to look, to where Burl was-in the

back of the wagon Val had driven out, but Scott took her hand and led her back to the library.

The family sat there, in the cozy comfort of the large room, and, sitting beside Scott on the sofa, Charlie was surprised when

Teresa spilled some coffee while pouring. Well, the spilling wasn't the surprise. It was what happened after the spill.

Teresa said, "Oh!" And then, promptly she looked toward Murdoch, and began to cry.

Murdoch stood, immediately, and wrapped his arms around Teresa.

"It's just so-sad," Teresa said. "I know he's at peace, but it's so unexpected-"

Murdoch smoothed Teresa's hair. "Johnny, some brandy," he said.

Johnny went to pour a small glass of brandy, and brought it to where Murdoch had gone to sit on the other sofa, Teresa beside him.

Teresa held the glass in her hands, which were still trembling a bit, and sipped at it. "I don't know why I'm behaving this way," she said.

"He had a way of making himself felt," Murdoch told her. "It's normal to feel shocked, and sorry."

"Will there be a funeral?" Teresa asked, after a few minutes had passed, and she was more in control of herself.

"We'll see about a service," Murdoch said.

"Nobody will come," Charlie spoke up, her voice small. "I mean-only us. And Mr. Val."

"It can still be a nice service," Scott told her.

"The friends that are there will have been his true friends," Murdoch said.

Upstairs, later, when Charlie was in her nightgown, she went to sit at her window seat, looking out at the stars.

Scott paused at the doorway, and then came over to the window seat. He sat down beside Charlie, and she looked at

him in the darkness, lit only by the hall lamps.

They both sat, looking out the window for a few long minutes.

"There's so many stars tonight," Charlie said.

"There is," Scott agreed.

"Do you think Burl will go to heaven, Scott?" Charlie asked, wistfully.

Scott let a few moments pass, and then said, quietly, "I believe he will."

"I hope so," she said fervently. She scooted over closer to him, and they sat for a bit longer, looking at the stars.

 **Lancer**

The funeral service was set for two days after that. Murdoch had made all the arrangements, and Charlie was fairly certain

that he'd paid for things, as well.

The day before the service was to be held, Scott waited until after supper was over, and then asked Charlie if she

wanted to go to the undertaker's, and view Burl. That wasn't exactly the way that he expressed it.

"Tomorrow, at the service, the casket will be closed at the cemetery," Scott told her. "This would be your opportunity to see

Burl-to see his face. If you want to."

"Oh," Charlie said, startled. She hesitated. "I thought you didn't want me to," she said. "At the creek, you wouldn't let me, when

I wanted to see him-"

"No," Scott agreed. "I don't think that would have been the right time for you to see him. I think it might have been too

much for you."

"But, you think it's alright now?" she asked.

"I don't know, kiddo," Scott said. "It might help you, to see him, to have some closure. To say goodbye that way. But, you don't

have to. It's whatever you want, that's what I'll try to help you with."

Charlie bit at her lip, thinking. "I think I'd like to," she said, finally.

So, they went. Charlie rode behind Scott on horseback to town, and once there, in front of the undertakers, Charlie grasped

his arm and slid down. He dismounted, and began tying the reins to the post.

Turning to look at Charlie, he said, "Ready?"

"I don't know-" she faltered. "Will you be angry if I can't?"

"Why would I be angry?"

"Because. You brought me all the way to town so I could do it."

"Charlie, if you can't, then that's alright," he said, quietly.

Charlie hesitated, and then said, "Maybe-if I hold your hand, then I can," she said.

Scott reached down and took her small hand in his. "You can even squeeze it, if you want," he said.

Charlie had never been in the undertakers before. It was dark in the front, though the undertaker seemed nice. He

showed them to the back, where there was more light from the windows, and said, "I'll be up in the front. Take your time."

Standing in front of the coffin in which Burl was lying, Charlie held her breath, looking at Burl's familiar face. He looked younger,

somehow, to Charlie.

"That's a nice suit that he's wearing," Charlie said.

"Val found it, in the bottom of one of those trunks of Burl's," Scott said.

"Oh."

Charlie took another step or two closer to the casket. She studied Burl's face again. "He looks-peaceful, don't you think, Scott?"

"I think he does look very peaceful."

 **Lancer**

It was, indeed, a sparse number that stood at the edges of the grave the next morning. The coffin had been lowered into

the earth, and only waited for a few words and dirt to cover it. Val, his deputy, Doctor Burton, Jelly, Maria and Cip, and the five members

of the Lancer family were those that stood and listened to the minister say the somber words about Burl. Charlie listened, but found

her attention wandering in and out. Hearing certain phrases about Burl, or reading of Bible verses, but then other moments she was

lost in thoughts of Burl. Memories.

Wearing his dirty old overalls, clomping thru the woods near his old cabin; his dogs jumping all over him in excitement; sitting and

sewing on bright-colored material; tipping back a whiskey bottle.

When it was over, and the minister was finished speaking, he closed his Bible, and everyone began to walk away.

Teresa took Charlie's hand, and the girls walked ahead.

Murdoch suggested that the group go to the hotel restaurant for pie and coffee. At first that made Charlie feel sort of

strange.

"Is it like we're celebrating or something?" she whispered to Teresa.

"No, of course not. We're just a group of people who wanted to show respect to Burl, and maybe talk about him together," Teresa

said. Maria and Cip went with Jelly back to the ranch, but the others gathered together at the restaurant.

At the large table, the doctor shared that he believed it was a sudden heart attack that had taken Burl's life.

"He would have wanted it that way," Val said. "He didn't strike me as a fellow who would have wanted things drawn out."

"At least he never had to go to one of those horrible asylum places," Teresa said.

Charlie, whose usual unflappable appetite was missing, felt glad about what Teresa had said, too. Still, she only nibbled at

her cherry pie.

As they prepared to leave the restaurant, Val began to talk about the trunks of Burl's that were at the jail.

"We'll come in with the wagon and pick 'em up," Johnny said.

Charlie began to wonder what all treasures might be lurking in the bottom of those trunks.

 **Lancer**

At home, after the buggy and horses had been put away, the family headed inside for their lunch. Maria met them at the door of

the dining room, her face wreathed in smiles.

"What is it?" Teresa asked her.

"Debes ver," Maria said. " _You must see."_

The table was set in grand style, with candles, and underneath all the dishes was an elaborate, delicately crafted

tablecloth. Bright in a hue of blue that resembled a robins egg, and edged with lace, it was indeed striking.

"Oh my," Teresa said, breathlessly.

"It's beautiful," Murdoch said.

"Where did it come from?" Johnny asked Maria.

"En la comoda en la sala de Burl's habitacion," Maria said. _"On the dresser in Burl's room."_

"That's what he's been sewing on for the last few days," Teresa said. "I recognize the color now."

"He must have meant it for us-" Teresa said, going to touch the edge of the tablecloth. "He said it was to be a gift to

thank us for having him here. He never would say what it was going to be, though."

"He was very talented," Murdoch said, sounding strangely emotional.

Later, Charlie went outdoors. She was sitting in front of the barn, with the two pups romping around her. Scott came out of the

house, and walked across the courtyard to her.

He crouched down to rub one of the pups behind the ears.

"You alright?" he asked Charlie.

"I guess so. I feel sad, and sort of-empty."

At Scott's nod of understanding, Charlie said, "I've never been to a funeral before. Except for my mother's, but I don't really remember

much about it."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead, puzzled. "How do you think he knew things, Scott? Like sometimes it would seem he just _knew_ things about

us. Me and Johnny, I mean."

"I'm not sure, Charlie. Maybe it just seemed that way," he said. Then he added, "Burl seemed to have quite a few mysteries about himself. Maybe

that's another one."

They were quiet for a few moments, both petting the dogs.

"I was thinking," Charlie said, finally. "That I might call this puppy _Lettie._ Sort of as a memory of her. Burl loved her an awfully lot."

"I think that's fine," Scott said, giving her a slight smile. "I'm sure he'd like that."

Charlie reached out to pet the male pup. "Maybe I could call this one _Burl,"_ she said, then. She swung her eyes up to

look at Scott. "Or is that foolish?"

Scott smiled again. "I don't think it's foolish at all," he said. "I think it's-" he paused, searching for the word he wanted. "I think it's

 _fitting._ A tribute."

He stood, and held out his hand to Charlie. Charlie put her hand in his, and let Scott pull her to her feet.

 **Lancer**

Conclusion to this story of Charlie and the Lancer family. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me thru it, and written reviews. I appreciate it

so much. There is more Charlie to come.


End file.
